Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Whatever It Takes ❯ Chapter 16

AN: I am excited to get to this part of the story, because the next chapter marks an important turning point. Those of you who really think about it at the end of this chapter should guess what it is. Let me know what you think. I'd love to hear from all of you. :)

Thanks once again to my husband for reading this over for me.

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 Sixteen

"Well Vegeta, here you are. Payment in full." Dr. Ueda handed Vegeta a bank receipt. "I had the money deposited into the account you specified."

"Thank you, Dr. Ueda." Vegeta took the paper the scientist was holding out to him. "I appreciate all of... your..." Vegeta stopped mid-sentence as he stared blankly at the receipt. How many zeroes were there? His brain was too shocked to count them. "I..."

Dr. Ueda grinned at the slack-jawed young man's expression. "Nice, isn't it? Most people can't fathom having even a fraction of what those three stones you sold brought in."

"Yeah." Vegeta looked up from the paper. "Three?"

"Yes, they got grants to purchase three nice-sized stones to place in different museums," Dr. Ueda explained. "And, I do believe that a governmental space station is interested in one of your stones, as well as a wealthy private collector with interests similar to my own." He leaned in. "Even if neither opportunity pans out, you are a very rich individual, young man."

Vegeta looked down at the paper again. Damn, that was a crapload of money. He cursed and ran a hand through his hair.

Dr. Ueda laughed. "That about sums it up, yes." He slapped Vegeta's arm good-naturedly. "Oh, good strong arm there. Well, congratulations Vegeta. I'm very pleased for you, and I wish you the best."

Vegeta smiled. "Thank you," he responded sincerely. "And now, I will uphold my end of the bargain." He opened the capsule containing the stones remaining from what the museum had chosen from and selected a good-sized piece. "For your university."

"Thank you very much, Vegeta." The scientist shook Vegeta's hand vigorously. "I'll let you know about the other investors. Meanwhile, if there is anything at all I can do for you, don't hesitate to let me know."

"Actually, there is something you can help me with," Vegeta responded. "I need a story I can fall back on when someone asks just where I got any money. Got an odd job for me? Anything at all will do."

Dr. Ueda laughed again. "I see you've thought this one through." He mulled Vegeta's request over. The boy did seem rather strong. "Hmm. How much can you lift?"

"How much do you need me to lift?" Vegeta countered.

***

"Hey, I've been looking for you." Bulma walked over to Vegeta as he kicked off his shoes. "Where'd you go off to?"

Vegeta shrugged. "Oh, just out for a bit," he said obscurely, hanging his coat in the coat closet. "Why, is something the matter?"

"No, I wanted to go over a couple wedding details with you." Bulma paused. "Come on, indulge me. I heard it through the grapevine that a few women have given you their phone numbers while you're out."

What was that emotion he heard in her voice? "Yes, that's true," he acknowledged. "But I haven't called any of those women."

"Oh." Bulma relaxed somewhat. "Why not?"

Vegeta was starting to become a little irritated by her behavior; after all, she had shown no intentions of disposing of her idiotic boyfriend and renewing her relationship with him. What did she care if he did decide to contact a woman who had shown an interest in him? "I didn't feel inclined to, Bulma. What does it matter?"

Bulma was taken aback by his question. "Hey, don't get defensive. I just..." She sighed. "Whether you believe it or not, Vegeta, I do care about your happiness. I thought maybe you were dating someone."

Now, that was a little sadness in her voice. He knew her too well to miss it. "No, I haven't moved on, if that's what you're hinting at," Vegeta said softly. He reached up to run the sides of his fingers along her cheek. "I doubt I ever could."

Bulma felt tears spring to her eyes at the longing look in his. "Vegeta, I..." She drew in a ragged breath. Why was she acting this way, like a hormonal schoolgirl with a crush on the hot school jock? She knew in the back of her mind that his looks weren't the true reason for what she was feeling, but refused to acknowledge the thought.

Vegeta frowned. "Don't cry, Bulma. I don't want to be the cause of any more of your tears." His hand dropped from her cheek.

Bulma sniffled. She was actually selfishly relieved that he wasn't seeing anyone and felt guilty about it. "I know."

~What does she mean by that?~ Vegeta couldn't help but wonder. She had to know how remorseful he was that he hurt her and that the loss of her love pained him more deeply than anything else ever had or could. How much did it matter to her? He nodded. "All right."

The two just stood there looking at each other for a long moment. "I uhm, should go over the wedding details with you," Bulma stammered after regaining her composure. His deep dark eyes had always been a weakness of hers, one which had become even worse whenever he looked at her as he just had.

"We should have some time before dinner, right?" he suggested.

"I think so," she told him, glad that he'd agreed without words to change the subject. It had been harder for her to talk to him than she'd thought it would be, and only proved the accusation her traitorous mind wouldn't stop plaguing her conscience about. "Let's sit in the kitchen."

Vegeta was silent until they got to the kitchen. "If you must know, I've gone to see Dr. Ueda a couple times," he told her as he poured himself a cup of coffee. "Want some?"

"Sure, thanks." Bulma was looking at him in surprise. "Why would you go see Dr. Ueda of all people?"

Vegeta placed their coffees on the table and sat down across from her. "He keeps trying to offer me employment," he told her, pushing a container of creamer over to her. "He thinks that I have potential or some other such nonsense." He picked up the sugar and poured some into his coffee.

He'd brought hazelnut creamer. It was her favorite, and he knew that. "Did you accept?" Bulma asked. She found herself extremely curious about where this might be leading.

Vegeta shook his head. "No, not yet," he said, taking a drink of his coffee. "But I might, if I need additional income. I did a few odd jobs for him. No big deal." He shrugged.

Bulma tilted her head as she mulled this over, a tiny frown gracing her features. "What do you need money for? You have everything you need right here."

"He needed some assistance and frankly, some of us lazy, good for nothing circus freaks might be getting tired of mooching," Vegeta responded as casually as if they'd been discussing the weather.

"Vegeta, you're not-" Bulma cut herself off mid-sentence, well aware of exactly where he'd heard such an accusation, but knowing she'd already said too much.

"What is it, Bulma? Is he a liar, or are you afraid of offending me because he's not?" Vegeta ran his finger around the lip of his mug.

Oh Kami. How to respond to that? "Vegeta, Hiroshi doesn't know you the way I do," she managed.

"He knows what he needs to, does he not?"

Bulma dropped her eyes and stared down at the table, guilt coursing through her. She'd told Hiroshi the worst about Vegeta, and to compound the issue Vegeta had made it no secret that he was regretful about the loss of their relationship. She had no doubt that he would leap at the opportunity should she tell him she was interested in getting back together with him. Of course Hiroshi would view him as a threat. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

He reached over and placed one of his hands over hers. "So am I," he whispered back.

She looked up at him and forced out a little smile. "I guess we should go over this, huh?"

"I guess." Vegeta withdrew his hand. "Bulma, I didn't mean to upset you. Can we just start over?"

Her smile reached her eyes that time. "I'd like that."

***

"So we'll have you three arrive in a second limo later." Bulma pointed at the flowchart she'd drawn. "Anya and Geta decided not to have a best man or maid of honor, since they don't know anyone well enough to ask them to do that. They just want something simple. So you don't need to worry about picking anyone else up on the way."

"What are a best man and maid of honor?" Vegeta asked, reaching for the pot to pour himself yet another cup of coffee. He'd taken the pot to the table with him after getting up for the second cup, knowing he'd be back for more.

Damn coffee.

"They're basically there to make sure everything last minute goes as planned," Bulma offered. "They hold onto the rings during the ceremony, and the maid of honor does things like making sure the bride's train gets straightened once she gets down the aisle. Things like that. But Anya's not going to have an extremely long train, and they thought they'd just have little Vegeta be their ring bearer and give them the rings during the ceremony. It would be special for him and them."

"I see." Vegeta mulled this over. "Why would Anya have a locomotive at her marriage ceremony? I cannot imagine-"

Whatever else he was going to say was cut off by Bulma's laughter. "Oh Veg, you're adorable. A train is just part of the bride's dress. It sort of trails after her, I suppose like the cars of a train follow the engine. It can get tangled up if it's long." She giggled again when a small blush covered his cheeks.

"Wearing a dress one could trip over," Vegeta grumbled with a huff. "Another foolish human custom that makes no sense."

Bulma smiled. "I guess it is a little silly when they're ridiculously long," she agreed. "I've always liked them, though. I'd probably have one." She paused when she realized what she'd just said. "I mean, I..."

"I understand what you mean," Vegeta said quietly. He dropped his eyes. This is what she had wanted with him, what he had denied her, deeming it unimportant. He understood now with sobering clarity that she might have been more forgiving of him had he taken her as his wife. They would have had the same serious issues to work out, but Bulma was a loyal woman. She wouldn't have taken up with another man had they legally belonged to each other.

He'd completely and utterly screwed up, hadn't he?

Bulma felt her heart ache at the shame on his face. Was he thinking about the conversation they'd had in the nursery after she'd received Kazue's wedding invitation? Could it be that he might actually regret not marrying her himself? "Vegeta..." She bit her lip.

He rose from the table, his eyes still averted. "Look, Bulma, I..."

The kitchen door opened and Mrs. Briefs came in. "Bulma, Hiroshi is here," she said a little hesitantly. Both young people looked rather tense.

"Thanks, Mom." Bulma got up as well. "Vegeta, would it be all right if we finished going over this later?"

He nodded. "That's fine." He headed for the door. "I am going out for a while, Bunny," he told Mrs. Briefs quietly. "I will not be here for dinner." Not only could he no longer face Bulma, but he didn't want to be anywhere around Hiroshi.

Bunny placed a hand on his arm. "Are you all right, Dear?" she asked.

Vegeta could hear the concern in her voice and forced out a little smile. "Yes, I just need some fresh air," he told her. "Don't worry."

"But..." Mrs. Briefs sighed. Bulma's notes were on the table. She had an idea of what might have happened, given what they were obviously talking about, but didn't want to pry. "All right. Don't stay out too late."

He nodded and kissed her on the cheek before leaving the kitchen. As he passed through the house on his way toward the front door, he made a point of openly turning up his middle finger at the smug looking man waiting for Bulma. The imbecile only snorted in response. He didn't deserve her. He didn't love her the way he... He...

Vegeta sighed as he put on his shoes. He understood now what Bulma had said about how love could be so wonderful but hurt so badly at times. He hadn't realized what a wonderful thing he'd had until it was gone.

And oh, did it hurt.

***

Vegeta rolled over and pulled his pillow over his head at the knock at his door. His head was pounding and he wasn't in the mood to deal with anyone right now.

"Pops?" Anya cracked the bedroom door open. "Are you awake?"

A low grumble she couldn't decipher issued from beneath the pillow.

She stepped inside the room. "Pops, are you all right?" It was then that she saw the mostly empty bottle on his nightstand. "Did you drink all of this last night?" she asked incredulously. When he didn't respond, she pulled the pillow away from his head.

Vegeta covered his head with his arms. He'd gone back to the liquor store the night before and selected a few things that the odd-looking clerk had suggested. He had made his way through most of a bottle of scotch before passing out onto his bed. "Leave me alone," he moaned irritably.

"Pops, why would you do such a thing?" Anya demanded. "Drinking that much isn't going to make things any easier for you. Trust me, I know. Now quit being rude to me, because I don't deserve it."

Vegeta rolled over onto his back and peered at her from beneath his hands. "I wasn't trying to be rude to you," he objected. "I just feel like crap."

"Of course you do," Anya confirmed, sitting down on the edge of the bed next to him. "You have a monster hangover. Promise me you won't do this again."

He scowled at her. "It makes me sleep," he said tiredly. "It makes me forget."

Anya felt her heart wrench with sympathy for her father-in-law. "I'm sorry you're hurting," she murmured. "But please don't make this a habit. I don't want to see you hurt yourself even worse because of it."

He sighed and reached out to pat her arm clumsily. "I know, Anya. Just... Just don't tell anyone about this, okay? Especially Bulma."

"Pops, I'm worried about you," Anya told him.

"You don't need to worry about me. I'm all right," Vegeta assured her. "Honest," he added at her skeptical expression. "What did you come in for?"

"We're going to breakfast and then out for a few wedding things," Anya explained. "You need to come along, so we got a babysitter for the boys."

Vegeta sat up with a small groan. "A babysitter?"

"Yes, a lady that Bulma's assistant recommended. Her name is Etsuko and she's really nice. Vegeta likes her a lot." Anya stood up. "How quickly can you be ready?"

Vegeta sighed. Why must everyone always need to do things when he felt like death warmed over? "Give me ten minutes."

"All right. I'll tell Bunny you're in the shower." Anya left the room and shut the door behind her. She shook her head and sighed. It was pointless to ask why he was doing this to himself; it was obvious why. She just hoped that things between Bulma and him would improve and that the novelty of too much alcohol would wear off in the meantime.

She could hope.

***

"I think I'll get the quiche Lorraine," Bulma decided, closing her menu. "If the waitress comes back while I'm in the bathroom, could one of you order for me?"

"No problem, Pumpkin. Take your time," Dr. Briefs told her.

"Thanks." Bulma got up from the table and headed for the bathroom.

"Oh, that does sound good," Mrs. Briefs agreed as she perused her menu. "So do the blueberry blintzes."

"I haven't decided yet either," Anya said with a sigh. "Ooh, maybe the asparagus soufflé."

"I've decided what I want," Geta spoke up.

"With your appetite, you might as well just order one of everything," Anya teased. "The thundering of your stomach growling woke me up this morning."

"You poor dear," Mrs. Briefs said with a laugh. "Vegeta, do you know what you want yet?"

This was precisely what Vegeta had been dreading. When he had taken Gohan to breakfast, he had simply demanded that the boy tell him what was good on the menu and ordered accordingly. He might have known that the Briefs would select a more upscale restaurant today.

"I, uhm..." Vegeta picked up his menu again. There wasn't even a single photograph, and he couldn't read a word of it. Even if he could, what the hell were blintzes, quiche and soufflé, anyway? "I don't know," he mumbled, feeling his face grow hot.

The silence around the table was deafening as collective realization of the situation set in. "Would you like me to go over the menu with you, Dear?" Mrs. Briefs asked softly.

"Yes, please." Vegeta didn't know what else to say.

"All right." Mrs. Briefs leaned in a little closer so they could both see the menu he was holding.

"Bunny?"

"Yes, Dear?" she asked.

"Please don't tell Bulma." Vegeta's eyes pleaded for her silence.

Mrs. Briefs felt a stab of pity for the obviously humiliated young man of whom she'd grown so fond. "Of course not. None of us would do that," she assured him.

"Thank you." Vegeta let out a long sigh. Hopefully they would get through the menu before Bulma got back.

***

Vegeta landed on the roof, his warm breath forming a white cloud above him as he stared up at the cold night sky. He just didn't feel like being inside right then. He'd rather be alone.

Curiosity about the box he'd bought at the liquor store beckoned to him and made him pull it out of his pocket. What was the appeal of these things that made their use so prevalent amongst humans? He'd seen people on the television, people on the street, people in restaurants, even Dr. Briefs himself with them. Well, the doctor had rather defensively claimed they relieved his stress on one occasion when Bulma had pestered him about them, and that she of all people knew that. He opened the box and tapped one of the slim white tubes out.

Gods, but he needed some stress relief.

Vegeta put the cigarette between his lips and pulled out a lighter to light it, then inhaled as he'd seen the myriads of humans who smoked did. True, he had seen creatures of other species engage in the activity, but never to the extent that humans did.

Just as he had when he'd first tried Dr. Briefs' whiskey, Vegeta quickly found himself coughing uncontrollably. His throat and lungs burned and his eyes watered. How the hell could humans find inhaling burnt foliage into their lungs to be stress relief? He might have anticipated this response from his body after having smelled the offensive stench of the smoke from various purgings, but even that was more tolerable. "Damn it," he grumbled, looking at the offending object in between his fingers. He stared at it for a moment, then tried it again.

It wasn't so bad that time.

By the time he'd gotten down to the filter, Vegeta found that he had calmed down considerably as he quietly watched the stars. His keen eyesight detected a satellite moving above the Earth, and he followed it until it left his vision. Was his calm because the cigarette had made him relax, or was such a notion all in his head and he had made himself relax? It didn't make a difference to him. He felt at ease at that moment, and that was what mattered.

***

"Are you ready to go, Vegeta?"

Vegeta sighed as he stared at his reflection in the full-length mirror. "I guess so," he told the older man standing beside him, "but I look foolish in this clothing."

Dr. Briefs chuckled. "No you don't," he said reassuringly. "You make that tuxedo look good." A flicker of a smirk twitched at Vegeta's lip, and the doctor knew he'd responded in the appropriate manner to alleviate his apprehension. "Just make sure to let the bride shine today. That's what I already reminded Geta."

"Oh, I'm certain he won't forget," Vegeta responded in all seriousness. After the misunderstanding Anya and Geta had experienced a couple weeks prior, Geta had done everything in his power to make certain that his wife was happy with the proceedings.

"Well, he's pacing and mumbling things he needs to remember to himself right now," Dr. Briefs reported, amusement clearly evident in his eyes. "We'd better get him out of here before he wears a path into the floor."

"It's about time to leave, anyway," Vegeta agreed. "Let's get him and go."

***

Vegeta peered out the window as the limo pulled up in front of the banquet hall where the wedding would take place. They had not even opened the vehicle's doors yet, and flashbulbs brightened up the entire area. He sighed. "Damn paparazzi."

"You'll get used to it," Dr. Briefs assured him.

Vegeta wasn't so sure of that as the flashbulbs of so many cameras obscured his sensitive vision. "You'd think that King Furry himself was getting married," he responded dryly as they walked into the building.

"Wow. It looks great. Anya must be thrilled."

Vegeta and Dr. Briefs turned to see Geta examining his surroundings. "It had better please her," Vegeta commented. "Those three spent enough time insisting upon the smallest of details, and I'd hate to be the wedding planner if it doesn't."

Dr. Briefs mumbled something about thanking Kami that it was a wedding planner responsible and not him before herding his grandson and Vegeta off to their places.

***

Geta's heart melted as his wife walked down the aisle toward him on the arm of his father. She was beaming radiantly, and his father looked as proud as if she were his own beloved daughter.

When they got to the end of the aisle, Anya reached out to pull her father-in-law into a hug, which he returned gently. He gave her a little smile and guided her over to Geta before taking his seat beside Bulma.

Why did it have to be Bulma he sat beside? The question was silly. They were the parents of the groom. Of course he would sit beside her. He kept his gaze straight ahead as the proceedings began, not daring to look at the object of his affections.

Gods, she smelled so good. She looked beautiful as well. Of course, she always looked beautiful, but she looked especially lovely today.

"Who gives this woman to be with this man?"

So engrossed was Vegeta in his thoughts that he nearly missed his cue. He rose to his feet. "I do," he said in a careful level of volume before returning to his seat. He didn't want to yell, but people should be able to hear him, he'd been instructed. How all of these spectators would be able to hear him if he didn't yell he wasn't certain of, but it was of no concern. Anya looked happy, Geta was happy, and the rest of the ceremony would be lovely.

Vegeta heard a sniffle from beside him and looked over at Bulma out of the corner of his eye. She was crying, but he could tell that this was what she referred to as a "good cry" and not tears of sadness. He fought back the impulse to take her hand and returned his attention to the young couple being wed. It wasn't his concern. She wasn't his concern. Still, he couldn't help but feel for her since her selfish boyfriend had refused to attend with her, and he knew that Hiroshi's indifference had hurt her feelings.

~Just pay attention to the ceremony, Vegeta,~ he reminded himself. He couldn't let himself be affected during what was supposed to be a happy occasion.

Another sniffle and a dab at the eyes of the woman beside him made Vegeta reach into his pocket and pull out a handkerchief Mrs. Briefs had given him. It was a very nice one, much better than those scratchy tissues that were all through the house. He didn't really need it since he didn't get sick, but one never knew, and so he kept it in his pocket. As discreetly as possible he reached over and set it on her lap.

Bulma found herself a little surprised at the gesture. She'd had no idea he carried a handkerchief with him. It was a good thing, though, because she'd already gone through all of her tissues. "Thank you," she whispered.

He gave her the tiniest of nods. "You're welcome."

***

Vegeta stood off to the side of the room and watched the numerous guests dancing. He knew what was expected of him later on and wasn't pleased about it considering the last time he had attempted dancing with Bulma, but he would do it for Anya and Geta's sake.

"Hi, Vegeta!" Nuiko waved at him as she and her husband passed by. He nodded in response. Bulma's assistant was someone he could easily call a pleasant woman, and one of the few people he hadn't minded being around even before he'd begun attempting to be a little more socialable. Since his return from space, Mrs. Briefs had told him that it was something he should work on, since Bulma was quite a socialable woman. She'd been right, Vegeta realized, and so he was making an extra special attempt tonight. Because of the numerous thoughts attacking his conscience regarding how Bulma had wanted this, however, he felt rather depressed and wasn't doing a very good job of it.

His dark eyes continued to scan the crowd. He recognized many of the guests as individuals who had attended a party that the Briefs had thrown just a couple days ago. He had also attended at Mrs. Briefs' request, but she hadn't told him what kind of party it would be. As the night went on, they had all gathered together and counted down the time until the clock struck midnight. Everyone had shouted "Happy New Year!" but his real surprise had been when people began kissing each other. He had been the startled recipient of numerous kisses from many women, the majority of whom had been complete strangers. They had found it to be fun. He had found it to be odd.

Besides, there was only one woman who he wanted to kiss.

A voice beside him interrupted his thoughts. "So, are you going to stand there and brood at your own son's wedding, or are you actually going to relax and let yourself have a little fun for once in your life?"

Vegeta sighed. "What do you want, Woman?"

Chi-Chi pursed her lips. "Don't you realize how devastating your behavior is? How upset you're going to make Geta and Anya every time they watch their wedding video? I can just see it now: 'Look, there's Mom, doesn't she look great? There's Gram and Gramps dancing. They're having so much fun. There's Dad brooding and scowling, as usual…' Won't that be a nice memory?"

"I reiterate, what the hell do you want, Woman?" Vegeta had passed irritated and was beginning to become angry.

Chi-Chi edged a little closer. "I hate Hiroshi, too," she whispered, walking away across the room.

Vegeta blinked and his head whipped her direction. "What?" Neither of them noticed the music starting back up as he followed her.

"Caught your attention, have I?" Chi-Chi raised an eyebrow. "Would you like to do something about it?"

"What did you have in mind?" Vegeta murmured back. "She won't listen to Geta tell her that the prick's no good. She'll listen to me even less." He stumbled into her when a couple dancing nearby, naturally expecting him to be moving as well considering he was on the dance floor, bumped into him.

"Whoops, excuse me, Mr. Briefs," the young man said, continuing on his way.

"Uhm, no problem," Vegeta muttered, his face turning beet red.

" 'Mr. Briefs'? You haven't changed your name, have you?" Chi-Chi asked with obvious amusement.

"No, I haven't," Vegeta snapped, realizing with nervous discomfiture that they were completely surrounded by dancing couples. "Why would I do such an asinine thing and embarrass myself by looking completely desperate?"

"I didn't think you had. Look, we're drawing attention to ourselves," she whispered, grabbing his hands. She placed one at her waist and held onto the other. "Shut up and pretend you know what you're doing so we can talk."

Vegeta looked insulted. "I know what I'm doing, Woman," he snapped again. "What makes you think I don't?" He began to lead.

Chi-Chi pursed her lips and let him. "Well, number one, Goku has two left feet and I'm actually afraid to dance with him."

"I am royalty, not some third-class nincompoop. Of course I…" Vegeta scowled. "You little witch," he muttered, realizing she'd gotten just the reaction she wanted. "Just shut up and tell me what you had in mind."

"I figured you knew how to dance. I just knew you never would and I had no desire to pick my way through this crowd. And don't talk about my Goku that way. He may not be as smart as you claim to be, but he has a heart of gold and he could kick your ass any day of the week," Chi-Chi said, a note of triumph in her voice. "I understand what you're saying about Bulma not listening to you. She won't listen to me either and I want to help her, not drive her away. She deserves better than Hiroshi."

Vegeta's eyes narrowed slightly. "That's all fine and good for Bulma and for you, Woman, but why are you asking me for help? I thought you hated me. As much as I want to see Bulma free of that prick, it doesn't make any sense for me to help you find Bulma a new boyfriend."

"Because you live with Bulma and undoubtedly see a lot of things first hand the rest of us won't," Chi-Chi responded.

"Hmph." Vegeta scowled. "I could already recite a 'top ten reasons to kill Hiroshi' list, if you'd like to hear it," he said sarcastically.

"Good. Yes, if you have any incriminating dirt on Hiroshi, I'd like to hear it," Chi-Chi agreed.

Vegeta sighed, thinking. "Nothing like that, unfortunately."

"Should we set him up?" Chi-Chi suggested.

Vegeta shook his head. "Even if we did and it worked, Bulma would never forgive either of us."

She sighed. "I know that. Just wishful thinking, I guess."

"Well, if I think of anything, I'll let you know," Vegeta told her.

Chi-Chi smiled and nodded. "Good." She paused, giving him a contemplative look. "All right, I confess that there is another reason to ask you," she admitted.

"Yes? And what, pray tell, would that be, Woman?"

"Chi-Chi, please. You won't like what I'll refer to you as." She pursed her lips again. "As much as I dislike you at times and hate what you did to my friend, I honestly am forced to admit that while you and Bulma were at your best, I've never seen her happier. Never. You've changed a lot, Vegeta, anyone can see that."

Vegeta's eyebrow rose. "You can't honestly be telling me that you think I'm better than that ass Hiroshi and that you think I'm what Bulma needs," he said incredulously.

Chi-Chi sighed. "I told you, I've never seen Bulma happier than when she was with you, even when you made her sad, and all I care about is her happiness. So, again, I'm forced to admit that yes, I'd rather see you with her than Hiroshi."

"Hmph." Vegeta didn't know quite how to feel about that- pleased that she thought he was a better selection for Bulma, or insulted that he wasn't quite as bad as the scumball she was currently dating.

She seemed to sense his reaction to the matter and decided to change the subject. She gave him a crooked little smile. "You know, you're actually pretty good at this."

"Hmph. Whatever."

"Would you…" She stopped and shook her head.

"What?"

"No, it's okay," Chi-Chi said quietly.

"What?" he repeated.

He was surprised to see her look at him shyly, blushing slightly. "I haven't had this experience in a long, long time. Would you mind if we finished the song?"

His eyebrow rose, but he suddenly realized how physically deprived she was. Maybe to her, Goku did have a heart of gold, but did he really fulfill her needs? Could he? This was not befitting of a Saiyan; their race had obviously been well versed as far as physical activity went. That included physical passion between mates, which often times got intense enough it bordered on violence, giving the Earth expression 'love bite' a whole new definition of meaning. As Goku's prince, he would have to instruct his unfortunately clueless subject where he was lacking. This being the case, he couldn't find it in his heart to turn down the poor woman, annoying or not. Besides, it was something he excelled at, which his Saiyan rival obviously did not. "That's fine, Woman," he answered in a quiet voice.

It was her turn to be surprised, but suddenly she realized that perhaps having someone want to dance with him, show some attention to him, was helping to temporarily soothe the empty spot in him left by Bulma's loss. Whether or not he'd ever admit it, he might have been feeling lonely and excluded this night. "Thanks."

He gave a grunt of acknowledgement. "I cannot have another Saiyan neglecting his mate. I'll give him a kick in the ass for you." A feral grin spread across his face.

"Vegeta!" Chi-Chi objected, frowning at him. Her demeanor softened; perhaps he did care about other people, even a little bit. Her lips quirked up in a crooked smile. "Thanks again. Perhaps you're not as big of a jerk as I thought."

Vegeta snorted. "I don't know whether to be irritated at you or glad that you're finally seeing the light," he teased. "Maybe you're not as big of a harpy as I thought."

"Ha ha, very funny."

***

"Say, have you seen Chi-Chi, Bulma?" Goku asked, craning his neck to survey the crowd. "I'm hungry and wanted to know if she wants me to get her a snack."

Bulma shook her head. How could he still be hungry after everything he'd eaten that day? "Nope, sorry. Haven't seen her." She blinked and stared wide eyed into the sea of dancers. "Holy..."

"What?"

"I know it's dim on the dance floor, but that's definitely her. And I'd know that hair anywhere." Bulma continued to gape.

"What do you mean?" Goku asked, following her eyes into the crowd. When he saw his wife, his face took on a similar look. "That's... that's-"

"Yes," Bulma confirmed, astonished when she saw Chi-Chi say something to which Vegeta burst out in genuine laughter as he swung her around. She looked over at Goku to see his reaction.

Her best friend was glowering at the prince dancing with his wife.

"Goku, I'm as astonished as you are, but you never dance with her." She noted that this didn't seem to make him feel any better; rather, it made him even more peevish. "Maybe they're just talking."

"Yeah, well, Vegeta has never danced with you, either," Goku retorted bitterly. "What's he up to, anyway?"

A twinge of jealousy welled up in her; not only was Vegeta dancing with Chi-Chi, a woman he claimed to dislike intensely, but he actually seemed to be enjoying himself. What made it worse was that Goku was indeed correct; Vegeta had never danced with her, other than the few seconds in the den with Anya and Geta. "I have no idea. Just shut up and try not to be too obvious, Goku," she muttered.

***

Chi-Chi gave Vegeta a genuine smile. "I really enjoyed that. Even if it was with you," she teased.

Vegeta snorted again. "I barely found it tolerable." It was at that moment that he happened to notice Goku's dark scowl as he watched his wife dancing with another man. He grinned broadly as the next song started- he couldn't have asked for a better genre. "A certain someone's watching us," he informed her with amusement. "No, no, don't look. Just know that he looks mad and he's shooting me a death glare. Consider this part of his ass kicking." He took the proper stance. "I hope you tango, Woman, because if you don't, you're about to get a crash course." He grinned and raised his eyebrows as he made eye contact with Goku, relishing the younger man's glare becoming even more outraged, before turning his attention back to his dance partner.

"Yes, I tango- oh!" Her eyes widened and she gasped as he jerked her body flush up against his.

"By the way," Vegeta whispered in her ear, "just so there'll be no surprises, this one isn't going to be all good and nice. Hope there's no problem with that."

***

Vegeta was true to his word; he manipulated the loud, headstrong woman in an extremely erotic, aggressive fashion as he led her around the floor. At first it shocked her, but was she was even more mortified to find that she was actually enjoying being dominated in the way he was dancing with her, and her response to his lead wasn't exactly timid. She wished Goku would learn a thing or two from watching his wife dancing up close and personal with the surly Saiyan prince.

A slow smirk slid over her lips. ~Hmph. If he's that jealous of Vegeta dancing with me, maybe he will!~

So intent was Vegeta on ticking off Goku that he didn't notice the dance floor quickly begin to clear as the other couples stepped back to watch the surprisingly talented father of the groom dance with the mother of the groom's good friend, who wasn't half bad herself.

Wait... here was the father of the groom dancing chest to chest, hip to hip with the mother of the groom's friend, and smirking like the cat who ate the canary. My, oh my…

Two young women stood nearby, sipping their drinks while giggling and whispering as they watched. "Kami, this is hot. I wish my boyfriend was watching. He's too busy stuffing his face with the hors d'oeuvres."

"I know, look at her, all flushed and bright eyed like that!" She giggled. "What do you want to bet somebody's turned ooonnnn…"

They didn't hear the angry growl emanating from the Saiyan standing behind them as they continued to giggle and converse.

"You mean her or you? Well, I guess I would be too if a complete stud like that had me pressed up against him."

"Look, he's obviously quite into legwork. Are you watching all of these kicks and ganchos? There they go again."

"This girl has no chance. Look how rough he is. She's putty in his hands."

"No, I think she's managing to handle him quite well and she's definitely enjoying herself. But I must admit, that naughty little grin alone would do it for me." She sighed wistfully.

"Hey, why don't you see if you can cut in, Tsumugi? Since Ms. Briefs dumped him, maybe you could wrap your legs around him."

"Orika! You're such a perverted little hussy." She giggled. "That's not such a bad idea. Hey, wait a minute. Isn't that his friend's wife?"

"Oh Kami, I think you're right! He probably won't be his friend much longer!"

They erupted into hysterical giggles and wandered off, closer to the edge of the dance floor for a better view of the dance.

Bulma had heard the entire conversation and had her fingers over her mouth as she warily eyed Goku, who of course had also heard. He was growling, fists clenched, teeth bared and eyes glazed over with hate. She had never seen him so angry in her life. "Uhm, Goku?" she ventured.

"I'm going to snap that little midget's neck," he snarled under his breath, utterly shocking her. "How dare he humiliate me by dancing with my wife like this, and taunting me with that stupid smirk of his while he's doing it?"

"Maybe that's the point," Bulma said desperately. "You know how depressed he's been lately. He's been doing careless things and beating himself senseless in the GR. Listen to yourself, Goku. He knows you're the only one who could kill him. He tried that, remember? You know you don't want that, and I know that you don't want to leave my son without a father. You of all people understand how painful that is. Find out what his true motives are."

Her words hit him like a bucket of ice cold water. "Oh Kami, you're right," he whispered. "What was I thinking?"

"You're jealous and rightfully so," Bulma acknowledged. "I can't say I'm all too happy about it myself, but I don't want to kill Chi-Chi because of it."

Goku gave her a sideways glance. "You're still in love with him, aren't you?"

Bulma found herself caught completely off guard. "Don't be ridiculous," she objected, turning bright pink in a pathetic attempt to hide her lie. Even though the room was dark, she knew he could see that she was blushing. "I'm with Hiroshi now."

"Okay, B. Whatever you say." Goku looked at her with amusement, making her blush even more deeply. ~I'd bet anything that she's definitely still in love with him.~

***

The music trailed off and Vegeta ended the dance by dipping his partner back, leaning over her as he did so, his lips dangerously close to her neck. His head snapped up and he felt his cheeks darkening when the room exploded into applause and wolf whistles. They were the only ones left on the dance floor and everyone had been watching them.

Chi-Chi looked up to match his startled expression as their eyes met, she too blushing. "Oh, great," they chorused quietly. He stood her back on her feet.

"Now what?" he muttered out of the corner of his mouth. "I didn't exactly expect this."

"Nor I," she responded in kind. Thinking quickly, she curtsied to her audience, Vegeta immediately following suit with a smooth bow.

"Encore!" someone shouted, causing a smattering of the demand to ripple through the room.

The two looked at each other helplessly and shrugged, knowing there wasn't really any point in refusing after the show they'd just put on.

"Well?"

"Well?"

"Whatever."

"That's my line."

He gave her a resolute look and cast a look and a shrug to the deejay, who gave him a grin and a thumbs-up, causing everyone to cheer some more as they realized that they were about to get another show.

Chi-Chi cocked her head, listening to the new song. "Oh! This is a swing dance song. Definitely not a slow one."

"Thank Kami," Vegeta said. "I don't need any lovey-dovey dances." He paused. "What the hell is a swing dance?"

"You know, like the CharlestonJitterbug, Foxtrot..."

He gave her a blank look.

"Remember that movie that Bulma and I were watching last weekend when the people were dancing in the bar and you asked if they were on drugs or something?" Chi-Chi asked, amusement evident in her voice.

His face lit up with recognition. "Oh! I know what you're talking about now." He scowled. "You want me to do that? I'd look like an imbecile!"

"No, you won't. Loosen up and have a little fun." She grinned and grabbed his hands, executing a few steps on her own. "Think of how much it'll mean to Anya and Geta."

He sighed, gave her a tired 'you owe me, Woman' look, and joined her, much to the enjoyment of their spectators. He evidently hadn't done it before but quickly caught on.

***

Chi-Chi was feeling guilty knowing that Goku was angry about her dancing with Vegeta. Almost. She figured that he'd better get over it since he couldn't be bothered to even try to learn, no matter how much she harassed him about it. Why should she sit there doing nothing during the reception while everyone else was having a good time? He deserved to be jealous.

Which brought up a new argument- why did Vegeta also deserve to be forced to stand by himself watching everyone else enjoy themselves, even if he insisted he didn't want to participate? The man was obviously not devoid of emotions, no matter what he said about not having them. She and Vegeta had become involved in a discussion and when the music started, what was the harm? Goku wasn't about to dance with her, and she sure as hell wasn't about to run off with Vegeta of all people. If their dancing together woke up either of the people they'd hoped had noticed- and she knew Vegeta wanted Bulma to notice, or else he wouldn't have tangoed with her the way he had- then it had been worth it. Besides, they were both having fun, something, Chi-Chi realized, was sorely lacking in her life of late. Dancing was something she enjoyed, and Vegeta was a convenient and, more importantly, a more than capable partner.

Who would have thought it?

Bulma couldn't help but gape in amazement as she watched Vegeta dancing quite energetically with Chi-Chi. He wasn't as good at it as he was at his tango, but he was doing a pretty darn impressive job of it. He actually looked like he was enjoying himself, and definitely enjoying the response he was receiving from people watching. They cheered loudly, drowning out Chi-Chi's squeal of excitement when he picked her up by the waist and swung her up, all the while smirking at Goku, who watched with arms crossed and an annoyed expression on his face.

Chi-Chi was glad when the song ended despite enjoying the dance; even in as good physical shape as she was, exhaustion was rapidly overcoming her.

"Yeah, go Pops!" Anya shouted, clapping wildly when they'd finished. She ran over to him and gave him a big hug, pleased as she could possibly be when he returned it gently. "I must admit, I never expected to see you swinging on the dance floor." She let him go and grinned at him.

"Disappointed, girl?"

"Hardly!" Anya exclaimed. "Only if I don't get my dance, too."

"Ha! Don't get used to this foolish behavior from me," Vegeta told her sternly, but she knew quite well that he was barking infinitely louder than he ever intended to bite.

"You know, doing the splits would've been a cool way to end your little swing number, Pops." She giggled at the blank expression on his face.

"The splits? You mean..." He gestured with his fingers as if they were a pair of legs, and snorted when she giggled in assent. "Me, doing the splits. Yeah. Pigs will fly before that happens."

"I could just throw Oolong into a jet and-"

"I don't think so, Goldilocks."

A group of giggling young women approached them.

"Anya, you look beautiful," one of them commented.

Anya recognized her as one of Bulma's employees who worked in Payroll. "Thanks, Yae," she told the young woman sincerely.

Yae nodded. "Are you and your father-in-law going to dance right now?" she asked innocently.

Anya blinked. "Well, I'd like to, but we haven't-"

"Oh, you poor man," one of the other young ladies cooed. "You must be so lonely."

"I'm not-" Whatever Vegeta was about to say was cut short when she grabbed his hand and pulled him forward.

"I'll dance with you," she 'offered', pulling the startled Saiyan onto the dance floor, which had only been a couple yards away.

"Hey!" Yae objected, hands on hips as she watched her friend snap up the hot guy she'd been wanting to dance with.

"I, uhm..." he turned his head to look at his daughter-in-law, who merely smiled and waved him on, and sighed. "All right, but just one," he mumbled, embarrassed but unwilling to embarrass his daughter-in-law by rejecting the woman.

People started cheering when they saw him being hauled back onto the dance floor.

"My name is Hideko, by the way," the woman told him. "This is going to be fun!"

"Yeah, fun," Vegeta responded, trying not to sound too put out or bored.

***

Vegeta ended up being accosted by numerous women, all of whom wanted to dance with him. Eventually he just gave up and allowed it, especially after he saw Goku's spiteful look. He decided to let himself enjoy being the center of attention of many beautiful women; at the very least, that would tick Goku off even more.

"May I cut in?"

The young woman Vegeta was currently dancing with reluctantly stepped aside when she saw who was asking. "Sure..."

Vegeta's eyebrow rose as his new partner stepped closer to him and took his hand. "Bulma..."

"I figured you'd decide you've had enough soon and better get one in before you do," she said quietly. "You're quite popular tonight."

"Yeah, I guess."

They danced awkwardly in silence for a moment. "Come on, Vegeta. You weren't this stiff and standoffish when you were dancing with complete strangers," she whispered. "We've never seriously done this before and I'm a little disappointed that you aren't enjoying it."

Vegeta sighed and did his best to relax. What did she want out of him? "I'm sorry to be such a disappointment to you, Bulma."

She looked up at him. "What are you talking about?"

"You know what I'm talking about," he contradicted her. "If I wasn't such a disappointment, we wouldn't be..." He dropped his eyes.

She bit her lip. "Vegeta, I didn't mean it the way you took it," she objected.

"It doesn't matter," he murmured as the song ended. "I just-" He paused, drawing in a deep breath and looking off into the sea of people before continuing. "I can't do this, Bulma. I'm sorry." He let go of her and turned to leave.

"Vegeta, wait! What's wrong? It's just a dance." She placed a hand on his shoulder.

He closed his eyes at her touch. "I want you, Bulma, but you've chosen to be with someone else, someone who couldn't even be bothered to accompany you to an event which is highly important to you, even if only to please you," he whispered. "I won't torture myself..." He stopped and shook his head. "I'm sorry. Thank you for the dance."

Bulma's eyes filled with tears as he kissed her hand and left the dance floor. He was right. This was important to her, and Hiroshi had been completely disinterested and negative about it. She blinked her eyes rapidly, refusing to let herself cry at her son's wedding reception. She'd already shed her tears of happiness and people had seen her dancing with Vegeta; if she broke down now, surely they would talk.

***

"Give me a vodka on the rocks," Vegeta requested, leaning tiredly against the bar.

The bartender eyed him but said nothing. He'd already personally given this man several other drinks and while he didn't appear to be intoxicated, he didn't want to be responsible if it happened. This was the father of the groom, however, so he did as he was told and got the drink. "Here you are, Mr. Vegeta." He set the glass down in front of Vegeta.

"Thanks." Despite the fact that this man was being paid a boatload of money to bartend this wedding, Vegeta stuffed a few zeni into the tip jar and took his drink, heading off to an unoccupied table to drink it. On his way he passed the hors d'oeuvres table and filled a small plate with them. He collapsed into a chair with a loud sigh.

"Tired?"

Vegeta looked up to see Dr. Briefs standing behind him. He looked almost odd wearing a tuxedo instead of the lab coat he'd grown so accustomed to seeing the doctor wear.

He nodded, and took a sip of his drink. "Very. It's been a long day."

Dr. Briefs chuckled. "That it has. But I can't imagine how you could be tired after all of that dancing." He shook his head in amusement. "I never knew you could dance."

Vegeta nodded at the chair beside him and pulled it away from the table a little, indicating that the older man should have a seat. "There's a lot you don't know about me," he informed him. He swirled the liquid in his glass slowly, watching it as it washed around the ice cubes it surrounded.

Dr. Briefs sat down in the offered chair, a little surprised that Vegeta would ask for his company, even without words. "Evidently, my boy." He took a sip of his own drink.

Vegeta's eyes flicked up to meet the doctor's. The statement was short and to the point, but did he use it as what might be a blatantly obvious double meaning, or was it just an expression he'd used? "I see." He shoved the plate of finger foods toward Dr. Briefs. "Have some."

"Do you, now?" Dr. Briefs took a piece of food and popped it into his mouth. "Thank you."

"All right, then. What is it I should be seeing? And you're welcome," Vegeta responded, wondering why they were doing something so absurd as carrying on two conversations simultaneously.

"I kept quiet about the things I dislike about you for Bulma's sake," Dr. Briefs said in a low voice, startling the Saiyan beside him; obviously it wasn't quite what Vegeta had expected to hear. "However, when it comes to her current company, well, let me just say these three words." He leaned toward Vegeta. "I hate Hiroshi. I dislike that word. It's so intensely cold and dark. Evil. But I can't think of a better way to describe that man. He's so full of maliciousness, and I am convinced that not only does he not care about my baby girl or her feelings about who and what is important to her, but he is only after her talent to make a nice fat profit off of it."

Vegeta nodded, astounded by the doctor's confession; he'd hardly ever seen the man angry, let alone let on that he hated someone. "My boy?" he repeated quietly.

"I've never hated you, Vegeta, even after you hurt my daughter the way you did," Dr. Briefs said quietly. "There is something about you, something deep inside, that prevents me from doing that. Something about the way Bulma was when you two were together, as well." He regarded Vegeta the way a cat watches a mouse. "My daughter is important to you, isn't she?"

Again, Vegeta found himself surprised by the older man's questioning. "Well, yes. She is my son's mother and she makes sure I have what I need to properly train-"

"Liar," Dr. Briefs interrupted accusingly. He locked eyes with Vegeta, and the cat pounced with an even bigger question. "You're in love with her, aren't you?"

Vegeta sat frozen for a moment before dropping his eyes and sighing. "I... I cannot contradict you," he admitted, feeling his face flush.

"I thought so," Dr. Briefs confirmed quietly, but there was no mocking tone to his voice. "I only hope that Bulma realizes that too and comes to her senses before she gets seriously hurt."

Again Vegeta's eyes flicked up to meet the doctor's. " 'Before she gets seriously hurt'?" he repeated incredulously.

The doctor nodded. "Yes, that's what I said. I'll be blunt - you hurt my daughter terribly, but it's obvious to both the missus and me that you very much regret it. It's also obvious that you care greatly for my grandson and great grandson. I know that you were emotionally neglected as a boy, and the effort you're putting in to leave that in the past and make sure those children know how much they are loved and valued in your eyes must be tremendous for you. That means a lot to me, as does certain someone's complete lack of interest in and even open distaste of those same children." He leaned back in his chair and continued to look at the younger man beside him assessingly.

"I..." Vegeta closed his mouth, unsure of what to say. It was the second time that evening that someone he hadn't thought cared much for him had told him that he was a more welcome choice for Bulma than her current love interest. "So, basically you're saying that until Bulma finds a better man, I'm the lesser of two evils."

Dr. Briefs actually laughed. "Oh, no. Not at all," he said, watching the younger man's face fall. "I seriously doubt she'll ever find someone more compatible or better for her than you were when you were with her," he finished softly, easing the hurt from the way Vegeta had misinterpreted his previous statement.

"I... I don't know how to respond to that," Vegeta stammered.

"How about this? Down with the bastard known as Hiroshi."

Vegeta's face split into a slow smile. "Oh, yeah..."

***

Bulma noticed her father approach Vegeta and was astonished when Vegeta evidently agreed that her father could not only sit with him, but share his food with him as well. She watched covertly as they conversed for a few minutes; based on the reactions of both of them, notably Vegeta, it was a serious conversation going on and not just small talk. But nothing could have prepared her for when Vegeta grinned broadly, made a fist and held it out to her father, knuckles facing him, only to have the scientist bump his fist against Vegeta's. They both lifted their glasses, made a quick toast, and took a drink.

"What in the world?" she muttered as a smiling Dr. Briefs rose from his seat and patted Vegeta on the back of his shoulder before leaving the table.

Anya wandered up beside her, evidently also having seen at least part of the incident. "What was that all about?" she asked, gesturing toward the table Dr. Briefs had just left with a nod of her chin.

"I have no idea," Bulma admitted.

***

Vegeta downed the rest of his drink and stared at the sea of people milling around and talking. The music had stopped and now no one was doing anything in particular.

"Ladies and gentlemen, if I could have your attention, please," the deejay's voice came over the speakers. "Now that you've all had your turns tearing up the dance floor," he paused with a chuckle, "and yeah, you know who in particular you are," he continued, eliciting both laughter and a few shouts and wolf whistles, "the bride and groom are ready to have their first dance together."

Everyone clapped as Anya and Geta walked hand in hand onto the dance floor. Vegeta watched as the young couple held each other close and shared a slow dance, frequently stealing little kisses and other displays of affection. He was surprised to catch himself feeling... envious? No, that couldn't be right.

But he knew it was. It wasn't the wedding, nor the dance. It was the way they held each other, how they devoured each other with their lips and eyes.

The way Bulma used to look at him, speak softly to him, kiss him...

Everyone cheered, bringing his thoughts back to his surroundings, as the dance ended and a new song started. "And now, ladies and gentlemen, we will invite family to join the bride and groom on the dance floor," the deejay announced.

Vegeta suppressed a sigh as his and Bulma's names were announced as the parents of the groom. This was not what he needed. He got up and headed for the dance floor, not wanting to make a scene and ruin his kids' big day.

He held out his hand to her as she too approached and again led her onto the floor. Expressionless, he stared over her shoulder, watching as her parents were also introduced and began to dance.

"Vegeta," Bulma whispered, feeling awful about the situation.

Nothing.

"Vegeta!" she whispered a little louder.

He looked down at her. "What is it?" he asked, not unkindly.

Bulma's lower lip wavered slightly and her eyes grew glassy with unshed tears. "I… I know you're having an awful time right now and you'd rather be doing anything other than being near me," she told him, fighting to maintain her composure. "Please don't hate me for this."

"Hate you? Bulma, are you crazy?" he interrupted her, looking her in the eyes. "I don't hate you. I could never hate you. I..." He trailed off, entrapped by those blue eyes that had never failed to affect him. "Don't cry, Bulma," he whispered, reaching up with one finger to wipe a tear from her cheek. "Please don't cry."

She gave him a shaky little smile.

His stomach twisted as she did so. His hand had not yet left her cheek and, without thinking, he cupped the side of her face.

They forgot about where they were, what they were doing- or supposed to be doing- or who was watching as his hand tipped her chin up and they gazed deeply into each other's eyes. People began whisper amongst each other when they noticed the two standing still, simply staring into each other's eyes. Their faces drew closer together, their eyelids growing heavy and closing as their lips-

"Let's give them all a hand, everyone!" The deejay's demand was satisfied when the onlookers broke out into applause, startling them both. They jumped and moved their faces apart, eyes widening and cheeks growing pink as they realized what they'd almost done. Bulma and Vegeta had never been a couple who had indulged in lackadaisical kisses; no doubt it would have been quite the hot kiss.

Vegeta cleared his throat and went back to staring over Bulma's shoulder as they resumed the dance. His eyes caught the doctor's, who raised an eyebrow at him; evidently he'd seen the whole thing, but then again, who hadn't? Embarrassed, Vegeta dropped his eyes. "I'm sorry, Bulma," he whispered.

"I'm sorry too, Vegeta," she whispered back.

They finished the dance in silence. When it was over, he let go of her hand and nodded an acknowledgement to her before leaving the dance floor.

"Vegeta..." Bulma covered her lips with her fingers and watched him go, completely frustrated and confused by what had just happened. How could she have allowed it? She had been so lost in those deep black eyes that if they hadn't been startled, she would have undoubtedly engaged in a heavy kiss with Vegeta right in front of everyone. It was common knowledge that she was dating Hiroshi; what would people have said? It was too late for that. Their lips had been so close that they'd have connected in another half second- people were going to talk about that and it was going to get back to Hiroshi. There was nothing she could do.

For probably the millionth time, she wondered what the hell she was doing with Hiroshi when Vegeta made her feel so good and Hiroshi... well, he never even told her she meant anything to him. Why was she being so stubborn? What was she trying to prove? She knew in her heart that Hiroshi just might not be right for her, but was Vegeta? Her pride wouldn't allow her to dump Hiroshi and go crawling back to him.

Wait. Her pride wouldn't allow her to do it?

Bulma's heart sank as the realization hit her. She was treating Vegeta the same way he'd treated her. She'd been so enamored with him and eager for his attention that she'd done whatever she could to please him. Sometimes he'd responded, other times he'd been cold and cruel.

~Have I been cruel to Vegeta? I didn't think so. What did he deserve when he showed back up, for me to instantly run back into his arms, after how he hurt me? Kami, why do I have to keep going over and over this in my head?~

She sighed and sat down, trying to shove back all of the conflicting thoughts in her head so she could at least attempt to enjoy the remainder of the reception.

***

"Well, my boy, what was that all about?"

Vegeta sighed and his shoulders slumped when he heard the doctor's voice address him. "I don't know," he mumbled, turning to face him. "I just don't know." He ran his fingers through his hair uneasily. "It wasn't intentional, I assure you."

Dr. Briefs decided to pity the blushing Saiyan rather than berate him. "Let's leave for a moment," he instructed.

"Leave? Where did you want to go?" Vegeta asked, surprised by his request.

"Somewhere we can talk in private and I can have a cigarette. Out back of the building, perhaps?" Dr. Briefs suggested.

Vegeta was skeptical but followed the doctor out a back door, which they propped open so they wouldn't get locked out.

"So. What did you want to talk to me about?" Vegeta asked.

"Bulma, of course," Dr. Briefs responded automatically. "What else?" He reached into his pocket and got out his cigarettes. "Now where did I put that lighter?" he mumbled around the cigarette hanging from his mouth. "I must have left it in my lab coat. Drat."

Vegeta reached into his pocket and pulled out a book of matches, which had 'Geta and Anya' embossed in gold print with the date underneath. "Here." He pulled a single match out and held the book out to Dr. Briefs, who looked at him quizzically.

"Thank you," Dr. Briefs said, accepting the matches, "but why did you take one out first?"

"For the cigarette I was going to bum off you," Vegeta responded matter-of-factly.

"Oh. Sure." Dr. Briefs tipped the pack so another cigarette slid out. "I didn't think you smoked," he commented, lighting his cigarette.

"Normally don't," Vegeta responded, drawing the match along a brick on the building to light it. "But it's become a lot more frequent lately." He took a deep drag on the cigarette. It was amazing just how quickly he'd become addicted to the foul-smelling tubes of tobacco.

"When, and even more, why did you start?" Dr. Briefs inquired. "I'd rather you didn't. I know it's a nasty habit but I just can't seem to break myself of it."

Vegeta sighed, blowing the smoke out his nose. "Hasn't been that long," he grumbled. "I guess I find it somewhat calming, since I continue to find ways to screw my life up even worse than it already is."

Dr. Briefs nodded, waiting for the younger man to continue.

"I... I took the only good thing I'd ever had and threw it away, all for the sake of my stupid pride," Vegeta said softly. "Why? How could I do that?" he asked, shaking his head. "I could have left and come back like I did and everything would have been fine had I just told her the truth." He took another drag and threw the cigarette down, grinding it under his shoe. "And now, it's too late. I'm yesterday's garbage and now she's dating today's." He laughed bitterly. "I'm tired of feeling sorry for myself. If she would just let me, I'd show her what she really means to me, how I should have treated her from day one." His face reddened again and he stared at his shoes.

~It's absolutely amazing how much he's changed.~ "Well, based on what almost just happened between you two, I'd say keep on doing what you're doing," Dr. Briefs suggested.

Vegeta looked up at him. "What?"

"Bulma isn't stupid. She's being stubborn because she's hurt and confused. She's with what's-his-name right now, who, quite frankly, treats her and everyone she cares about like dirt. Despite that and the fact that you are treating her like an absolute princess, which she obviously didn't expect, it's difficult to swallow her pride and just dump him to take you back." The doctor likewise finished his cigarette and ground it out beneath his shoe. "You already mentioned understanding how difficult dealing with your pride has made your life. Don't give up on Bulma. Show her that there is something better than what she's being offered, and someone better to give it to her- you. So as I said, just keep on doing what you're doing." He smiled mischievously. "Perhaps one day this matchbook will say something different, hmm?" He held the matches out to Vegeta.

Vegeta blushed still again as he pocketed the matchbook. "I, uh, I suppose it would," he mumbled, embarrassed by the doctor's insinuation.

Dr. Briefs chuckled. "Good. Don't give up, Son." He smiled at the expression on Vegeta's face. The Saiyan had never expected that from him. "Whoo, it's cold out here. Let's get back to the reception."

Vegeta nodded. "Thank you, Shatsu. But before we go, I have to hide the evidence." A short burst of ki engulfed him, instantly killing the smell of the cigarette he'd smoked. "You won't tell anyone?" It suddenly occurred to him that he'd made that request quite a bit lately.

Dr. Briefs shrugged. "As I said, I wish you wouldn't, but as long as you don't smoke around my grandsons, I'm not your babysitter."

"Oh, no, I'd never smoke around them, I assure you," Vegeta promised. He held the door open for them to go back inside.

"Good," Dr. Briefs agreed. "Now, what do you say we-"

"Well, hello there, Shatsu." The two men turned to see a distinguished looking man approaching them.

"Wonderful that you could make it, Masujiro," Dr. Briefs said, shaking the man's hand. "Vegeta, this is Masujiro Daishi, an old friend of mine. And Masujiro, this is Vegeta, my grandson's father."

"Nice to meet you," Vegeta said politely, shaking the man's hand.

"Likewise," Masujiro agreed. He'd heard quite a bit from Dr. Briefs about Vegeta and had been hoping to make his acquaintance. "By the way, that was some pretty impressive dancing earlier, young man."

"Thank you," Vegeta responded, a little embarrassed. But what was done was done, and everyone had seen him dancing like a fool. "I don't normally dance. I just did it for my son and daughter-in-law."

Dr. Briefs' eyebrow rose. "Well then, Son, how do you explain the way you danced with Chi-Chi?" he asked, amusement evident in his voice.

"Oh, yes. Chi-Chi..." Vegeta grinned. "Didn't you see how livid Kakarrot was? Perhaps now he will get some lessons so his wife can stop harping at him because he has two left feet."

Bulma watched them from a distance and frowned when the three of them laughed at whatever Vegeta had said. It seemed that he was in a relatively good mood- as long as he wasn't around her, that is. She sighed, feeling decidedly lonely and sorry for herself. Things were so messed up right now. She was utterly confused by Vegeta's behavior that evening and had to get things figured out with Hiroshi. He'd be mad at her for sure once he heard about what had almost happened.

"Bulma? Are you all right, Dear?"

Bulma smiled at her mother, who was approaching her with VJ in her arms. "Yes, fine," she told her, taking her son. "I just have a lot on my mind, that's all."

~I'm sure you do.~ Mrs. Briefs laid a hand on the back of Bulma's shoulder to encourage her along. "All right. Come on, they're going to cut the cake in a few minutes."

Bulma followed her mother silently. She'd work things out or go crazy trying.

***

"No."

"It's just a line dance, Father."

"Precisely. No."

"C'mon-"

"No."

"It's not the chicken dance, I swear to Kami."

"Good."

"Then you'll do it?"

"No."

"Just once?"

"What part of 'no' don't you comprehend, Son?"

"The 'no' part. Father, it would make Anya so happy."

"No, it wouldn't."

"Yes, it would. Anya loves line dancing."

"I'm sure she'd love me snapping her husband's fool head off at your own reception, too."

Geta sat down beside his father. "Should I have her ask you herself? Would that help?"

"No. I'd still say 'no'."

"Are you going to say 'no' to everything I say tonight?"

Vegeta downed his entire drink in two large gulps, making Geta's eyebrow rise quite high, and looked over to his son. "No, I'm going to answer 'yes' to that question, then go right back to, oh, how about, no."

"Just tell me why not, then."

"Because I don't want to."

"But why not?"

"It is a foolish waste of time and energy. True dancing requires skill. This requires no talent whatsoever." Vegeta paused, and a huge grin split across his face. "Perhaps you should get Kakarrot to try it." He roared with laughter.

Geta eyed his father skeptically. "Are you drunk?"

Vegeta set his glass on the table next to three empty ones already there. "Nope. Not yet. Got a bit of a nice buzz going. Don't worry about it," he assured Geta, noticing his look of displeasure, "I won't get plastered and embarrass you. I already did a good enough job of that when I danced with Kakarrot's woman."

"Father, no one thought badly of your dancing, I assure you. Everyone thought it was great. Anya was tickled pink, and still wants another dance with you." Geta sighed. Why was his father acting this way?

"I will have a dance with Anya, but not some ridiculous line dance," Vegeta informed him. "I am not trying to spoil your evening, but I don't want to participate in a line dance, understand?"

Geta nodded. His father had been more than cooperative thus far, much more than he'd expected. "All right, Father. I'm sorry I bugged you about it. But you should know that Anya and I are very pleased that you've been as actively involved as you have been tonight."

Vegeta nodded in return. He'd done it for them, only for them, especially the dance with Bulma. It had pained him to be so close to her, knowing that he could not have her. "Let me know when Anya wants her dance."

"Will do." Geta gave him a two-fingered wave and headed over to the line dance.

Vegeta watched him go. He'd been embarrassed by his behavior that night, but if his dancing had made Anya happy, that was what was important.

Now, if he could only find a way to deal with the rest of the night.

***

"Oh look, Anya and Geta sent us a postcard," Mrs. Briefs exclaimed, holding up the brightly colored card for everyone to see. The young couple had gone on a week-long cruise to a chain of several tropical islands for their honeymoon. They would have gone on a longer trip, but Mrs. Briefs had insisted upon Anya having a birthday party with family and friends upon their return, and they wanted to be back a few days early for it.

"What does it say, Mom?" Bulma asked with interest. She'd been moody and sullen for the past few days after quite a heated discussion with her boyfriend regarding 'relationship propriety', which hadn't turned out in her favor in the slightest. Some pleasant news from her son and daughter-in-law sounded good to her.

"Let's see. 'Hi everyone. We're having a wonderful time. The weather is gorgeous, the activities on the ship are fun and the food is fabulous. I think the kitchen employees are sick of Geta's all-you-can-eat appetite, though.' " Mrs. Briefs giggled before continuing to read. " 'We should all do this together sometime. Anyway, we miss you all and send hugs and kisses. Love, Anya and Geta.' Oh, what a lovely postcard," the blonde woman cooed. She went over to the refrigerator and hung the card there with a magnet.

"I'm glad they're having fun," Bulma commented, pouring herself some coffee. "They deserve a little R and R."

Vegeta shifted his son on his lap and tilted the bottle the boy was drinking a little more appropriately. He made no comment about the postcard. Given the chance to do things over, he would have taken Bulma anywhere her heart desired and lavished her with the love and affection she deserved. He held in a sigh. Would she ever find it in her heart to forgive him and love him again?

"I'm glad for them too," Dr. Briefs agreed. "Cruises are such fun."

"Anya is such a sweet girl," Mrs. Briefs added. "I'm so happy for Geta." She bustled over to the stove. "Does a pork roast for dinner sound all right with you?"

"Sounds great, Mom," Bulma spoke up. "And judging by the look on Daddy's face, I'd say he's in agreement."

"Wonderful!" Mrs. Briefs clasped her hands. "What about you, Vegeta?"

Vegeta looked up from his son. "I would very much enjoy pork roast, thank you," he told her. He got up from his seat. "I'll put Vegeta down for a nap, and maybe catch a little bit myself."

"All right, Dear." Mrs. Briefs watched him go, a frown of concern on her face. "I hope he's all right. He seemed so sad all of a sudden."

"I wouldn't worry too much, Bunny," Dr. Briefs assured her. "He indicated that he was tired. Maybe it's just that." He personally thought that something else must be bothering Vegeta, but kept his suspicion to himself. Based on their conversation at Anya and Geta's wedding, it wasn't that hard to guess what he might be thinking. But he wouldn't pry; if the boy wanted to talk about it, he'd seek him out.

Bulma wasn't buying it either but also decided to keep her comments to herself. "I'll be in my lab if either of you need me."

***

Vegeta laid his sleeping son in his crib and pulled the thin crib blanket over him up to his chest. He ran a gentle hand over the boy's hair. His son was getting big so fast. Soon he would no longer be an infant. He turned to peer into the crib on the other wall. His grandson was still sleeping, so he crept out of the nursery and shut the door.

Vegeta went to his own room and flopped down on the bed. He was feeling quite melancholy and didn't really feel like being around anyone at the moment. Of course, if she came to see him, he'd make an exception.

He sighed, knowing that in all likelihood that wasn't going to happen, and got up to open his window. He flew up to the roof to sit there awhile and watch the big puffy snowflakes falling come down around him. It was peaceful enough outside that he didn't mind the cold; a light ki shield would take care of that.

Vegeta reached into his pocket and pulled out his cigarettes and a lighter. Damn addictive, smelly tubes of leaves. Just another thing to add to his list of vices along with coffee and, unfortunately, alcohol, the way things were going lately. Every time that utter bastard came over, it was the best thing he could think of to do other than blast the man. Thus saying, he always ended up leaving and going to a bar or club, or he'd hole up in his room.

Before he knew it, the rest of the pack was gone. Just how long had he been out here? He sighed and shot a quick burst of ki around himself to kill the smoke smell before going back indoors. No, she hadn't come. But he hadn't really expected she would, either.

***

Vegeta padded to the kitchen, coffee first and foremost on his mind. He'd have a quick breakfast and head outside to train if no one needed him for anything.

He paused at the door. What a depressing thought. He pushed the door open to see Dr. Briefs squatting down next to the sink and examining the plumbing. "Good morning, Shatsu."

The doctor looked up at him. "Good morning, Vegeta."

Vegeta frowned a little, as the older man seemed irritated. "Is something wrong with the sink?"

Dr. Briefs hauled himself back up to his feet with a small groan. "Damned stiff knee. Yes, the dishwasher keeps malfunctioning and the water won't drain properly," he explained. "I think it's actually the hose between the dishwasher and the rest of the plumbing that's clogged this time. Plus there's water under the sink, so one of the pipes must be leaking. It's a real irritation to Bunny, because you know how much she loves being in her kitchen."

Vegeta nodded. "I can see how that would be an annoyance," he agreed. "Can you fix it, or will you call for service?"

"I'd get down there and fix it myself, but my back is terrible today and I know I'd never get back up again," Dr. Briefs complained. "The last time I called for service they took forever to come out and did a lousy job."

"You'd think that they'd do an excellent job for someone like you so that you would retain their services," Vegeta mused.

Dr. Briefs nodded. "Indeed, but seeing as they are the only company in the area who fixes industrial equipment like this, they can pretty much do what they want. Bunny's pretty upset about it and I can completely see why."

"Hmmm..." Vegeta peered at the disobedient appliance objectively. "Let me take a look at it," he offered.

Dr. Briefs shrugged, although he was a little surprised that the Saiyan would offer. "Sure, if you'd like."

Vegeta removed his shirt and tossed it over a kitchen chair, leaving him clad in only a pair of his infamous training shorts, and wriggled into the false cupboard space underneath the sink. "Oh, yeah," he agreed. "You've definitely got a bad leak going on here."

"Let me get you a flashlight," Dr. Briefs offered.

"No, that's not necessary," Vegeta declined. "Saiyans can see well in the dark, and if I need more light I can use my ki."

~Smart boy.~ "All right," Dr. Briefs agreed. "What can I do?"

"Run the water just a little so I can see where exactly the leak is coming from," Vegeta instructed. "Okay, I see it. Go ahead and shut it off."

***

Mrs. Briefs walked into her kitchen to see her husband peering under the sink, where someone else was busy at work. "Oh, I didn't know that you had already called a repairman, Dear. How nice that someone could come out so quickly!" she exclaimed happily.

Dr. Briefs looked up at his wife with an amused smile. Obviously it hadn't occurred to her that a repairman wouldn't be barefoot and wearing spandex shorts, but then again, he hadn't expected Vegeta to volunteer his services either. "No, I didn't call anyone, Bunny. Vegeta offered to take a look for me."

Mrs. Briefs' eyes went wide with surprise. "Vegeta? I didn't know you knew how to fix plumbing!"

"Not really," Vegeta responded from under the sink, "but I only snaked the pipes out and replaced a bad joint. Besides, if your kitchen doesn't work the way it should, then I don't get to eat one of your tasty dinners, right?" he said with a low chuckle.

Mrs. Briefs burst out into peals of giggles. "Oh, my, what a sweet young man you are! I'll have to cook a nice turkey dinner for you tonight," she declared, knowing very well that Vegeta was quite fond of turkey dinner.

"With sausage and apple stuffing?" came the hopeful response.

"Oh, yes! All the trimmings, and pie," she crooned.

"Aww, Bunny, I take back every rotten thing I never said about you," Vegeta joked, making her giggle.

"Vegeta, you're so silly!" She giggled again. "Would you like pumpkin or Dutch apple pie?"

Vegeta's stomach rumbled loudly. "You mean I have to pick? Hmmm... surprise me," he decided, setting a wrench on the floor next to his leg.

"I'll make both, then," Mrs. Briefs decided.

"Sounds good to me. Let's give this a test run," Vegeta decided. "Could one of you turn on the water?"

"No problem." Dr. Briefs did as Vegeta had asked. "How does it look?"

"So far, so good," he announced.

"Thank you, Vegeta! But it's almost too bad," Mrs. Briefs mused. "If it couldn't be fixed, I could have gotten the newest model."

"Bunny, just tell me these things," Dr. Briefs chastised gently. "Pay her no mind, Son." He went over to the coffee maker and poured himself a cup.

"What? Are you saying to just tell you these things and I'll get a new one? Hmm, I'll remember that the next time the GR breaks, Dad," Vegeta joked playfully. This actually wasn't all that bad.

***

"Let's see if Grandma or Daddy can watch you while Mama goes to her meeting," Bulma cooed as she picked up her infant son. "Maybe Grandma is making breakfast. We'll go take a look."

She headed for the kitchen, hearing voices and laughing as she got closer.

"What? Are you saying to just tell you these things and I'll get a new one? Hmm, I'll remember that the next time the GR breaks, Dad," she heard Vegeta say, eliciting laughter from her parents.

She stopped dead in her tracks just outside the doorway, not having heard her father's earlier 'Son' comment and therefore not catching on that Vegeta was joking around with her father. ~Dad? Wait- is Vegeta fixing the kitchen sink?~ she thought with utter astonishment.

Presently a loud, violent sounding sneeze came from under the sink, followed by an even worse sounding thud and a groan.

"Vegeta, what happened?" Mrs. Briefs asked worriedly. "Did you hit your head, Dear?"

"Yes, on the pipe I just fixed, of course," Vegeta groaned. "It's musty down here from the water and when I sneezed, I sat up part way from the reflex... aaauuugh! Quick, Shatsu, turn it off! Turn it off!" he yelped as water began to spray from the pipe he had bumped his head against. He tensed at the shock of the frigid water hitting him, and his legs, which had been bent at the knees, shot straight out in front of him from underneath the sink.

"Oh! Vegeta, so sorry about that," Dr. Briefs exclaimed, hastily picking his way across the tools and various pieces of plumbing materials on the floor and turning off the sink.

"K-Kami, that's c-cold!" Vegeta wriggled out from under the sink, completely drenched and dripping, his long hair plastered to his head. He shivered, rubbing his arms with his hands. "Oh, well. I suppose I could use a shower anyway..." He trailed off when he saw Bulma standing in the doorway with their son. "Bulma..." His cheeks reddened when he saw the expression on her face, the look in her eyes.

Bulma was having quite a bit of trouble keeping her thoughts chaste and her eyes off of the wet, dripping physique of her former lover. He had bulked up considerably since coming to Earth and even more so since he'd left to train in space. Unconsciously, she sucked in her breath and licked her lips as her eyes burned a searing hot path down his body and back up again.

Dr. and Mrs. Briefs exchanged a look as their daughter openly gawked lustfully at Vegeta, unaware that she was even doing it. Maybe there was hope for the two of them yet.

Suddenly Bulma blinked and shook her head slightly, snapping out of her stupor. "I, uhm..." Her cheeks flushed pink when she realized how she had been behaving. ~But he's so Kami damned hot!~ her mind shrieked. ~But I have a boyfriend...~ "I have a meeting..." She shifted her squirming son in her arms.

She looked at Vegeta again to find him staring intently at her. Her heart caught in her chest as he stepped toward her, a smile playing at the corner of his mouth. "Bulma, don't worry about it," he told her softly, "in either sense." He held out his hands. "Vegeta, why don't you come take a bath with Daddy, smelly boy?" he asked his son, chuckling softly when the baby babbled happily and reached out to him.

"I..." Bulma bit her lip as she handed him their son. "Thanks, Vegeta."

"Likewise," he murmured in her ear, giving her that knee weakening grin. "Any time, Princess." He kissed her cheek and headed for the door. "I apologize for the mess, Bunny. I'll get some towels to clean it up."

Mrs. Briefs waved him off. "Oh, that's all right, Dear. I'll take care of it. You take care of my darling little grandson."

Vegeta nodded. "When I am through bathing my son, I'll repair the pipe. The damage isn't all that severe." He gave her a lopsided smile. "I got a pretty good look while I was down there."

Mrs. Briefs giggled. "Oh, Vegeta! You really are too silly!" She watched him go, then turned to her daughter. "You seemed a little distracted for a moment there, Bulma," she commented.

"Yes, just a little," Dr. Briefs agreed, an amused twinkle in his eyes. "I'll be in the lab if you need me." He grabbed his coffee and left the kitchen.

"You're so quiet, Dear. Is there something on your mind you'd like to talk about?" Mrs. Briefs asked innocently.

Bulma turned beet red. "I have to go, Mom. I have a meeting."

"Yes, I know. Drive carefully, Sweetie. You're very distracted right now." Mrs. Briefs gave her daughter a knowing little smile. "Quite the masterpiece, isn't he? And such a sweet young man, too."

Bulma somehow managed to turn even redder. "Mom! I'm with Hiroshi! Why are you doing this?"

"Just 'with' him? How sad." Mrs. Briefs poured some tea into her cup and turned back to Bulma. "I've never seen you look at him, or even Yamcha for that matter, the way you just lusted after Vegeta."

Bulma groaned and hid her face in her hands. "I wasn't lusting after him, Mom! I was just... I mean, I..." Her mother was just two darn perceptive, much more so than she let on most of the time.

"Whatever you say." Mrs. Briefs kissed her daughter on the cheek. "There are fresh cinnamon rolls in the oven if you'd like to take one with you." She shifted several items in her storage pantry and sighed. "Now, where is that pesky mop?"

"No thanks, Mom," Bulma responded, grabbing her purse. "I'll see you later."

"Bye, Dear. Have a good meeting." She leaned back against the counter and watched Bulma rush for the door. "Quite the masterpiece," she repeated thoughtfully, giggling to herself and sipping at her tea.

***

Vegeta waited as the connection was established. Anya had e-mailed him and told him to log on at this time and so here he was, sitting cross-legged on his bed, the laptop Mrs. Briefs had insisted on buying him perched on his lap.

"Hey, Pops!" came Anya's jovial voice from the computer. "You figured out the web cam, I see." She giggled when he rolled his eyes.

"Hmph. You act as if I'm a technological invalid or something like that," he grumbled.

She could tell he wasn't irritated with her. "Nah, not at all." Anya smiled at him. "I know you've got a techie side to you, you nerd." She giggled.

Vegeta shook his head. Such a free spirit she was. He couldn't help but feel a little envious. "We got your postcard," he commented. "Enjoying your trip, then?"

"Oh yeah," Anya agreed, brightening immediately. "There's so much to do here and we have a ton of pictures and souvenirs. We've just got to all go together sometime." Her eyebrow rose. "You could use a little stress relief yourself, Pops."

Ugh, stress relief. He'd had enough of trying for that of late. "We'll see," he told her non-commitally.

"I'm gonna hold you to that," she insisted. "So... how are things around there?"

Vegeta sighed. "Do you mean, does my life still suck as much as usual, or how is everyone else?"

Anya tilted her head in a non-verbal plea, a frown on her face. "Pops..."

Vegeta sighed again. "I'm sorry, Anya. I didn't want to bring you down on your trip."

"You haven't," she assured him. "But it's amazing how attached you can become to someone when you've only been away a few days. I just wanted to say hi."

Vegeta let out a little smile. "You're a good woman, Anya," he told her softly. "My son is a lucky man."

She returned the smile. "Thanks, Pops." She paused. "Is Vegeta around?"

Vegeta shook his head. "He's napping right now. Did you want me to wake him up?"

"Oh, no, don't do that," Anya objected. "He gets cranky if he doesn't get his nap. Just tell him that Mama said hello and sends hugs and kisses."

"Will do." Vegeta chuckled.

"Hey, Bunny told you about my birthday party, didn't she?" Anya asked. "You'd better be there, and I want a good present, too," she demanded playfully.

"Yes, Bunny told me about your party," Vegeta assured her, "and I already have your present all wrapped up and not exactly hidden on the floor in my closet. I wouldn't miss it."

She giggled. "Good." She dropped her eyes and her smile faded a little.

"Anya? What's wrong?" Vegeta asked, concerned. "You went from happy to sad just like that."

"I'm all right, Pops," she responded with a shaky little smile. "I just can't help but think about how different things could have been had I been able to warn my mother, that's all."

"I'm sorry, Anya," he told her sincerely. "I wish I could be someone different, if only to be able to contact your father for you."

Anya sniffled. "I know you would if you could," she told him. "Please don't feel badly about it. I'll be okay. Really."

Vegeta didn't really know how to respond to the suddenly awkward situation. "I know you will. You're one of the strongest people I know," he heard himself saying.

"Thanks, Pops," she whispered. "I should go. I told Geta I'd only be a few minutes and we have to board the ship again soon."

"All right," he told her. "Give him my regards and get some rest."

"You too. You train too hard." She smiled at him. "I love you, Pops." Before he could respond, she closed the connection.

Vegeta sighed and shut the laptop. He truly wished he could help her. He would gladly go there if he had sufficient travel time, but Gerdia was far away, too far even for Dr. Briefs' fastest ship. Unless he could physically be there and request an audience with her father, he'd never get through to him, even if he attempted to place a communicade.

He'd thought about having Anya attempt to locate her father's ki and teleport them to him, but even if she was able to accomplish it, he knew such an action would not fare well for either of them. No one entered the king's presence without having been summoned first. It could mean death, since the king's guard would view his safety as be compromised- especially considering just who Vegeta was to them, a bloodthirsty, dangerous Saiyan. He and Anya would likely both be executed on the spot.

Still, there had to be something he could do. What was the Earth expression he'd heard? Ah, yes. Where there's a will, there's a way.

Vegeta placed two fingers to his forehead and teleported to the labs. The computers there displayed information primarily in Western Standard, but there was one there that he'd be able to understand perfectly.

"Hey Vegeta." Bulma set down her screwdriver as he wandered into her lab. "What's up?"

"I need to borrow the scouter you have," he told her. "I want to look up some information that I might be able to find using it more easily than on your computers." Not to mention, the information he wanted might not even be in her database.

"Oh." Bulma reached into her lab coat pocket for the key she needed and went over to a cabinet to unlock it. "Sure. Here you go." She handed him the scouter. "What are you looking for?"

He shrugged. "Just curious about something. If I find anything of interest, I'll let you know." He winked at her before leaving the lab.

Bulma caught herself blushing at the naughty little smirk and flirtatious wink he'd tossed her way. Damn it. Why now, of all times? She shook her head and went back to work. How hot he'd looked when he'd done it wasn't what she needed to be thinking about right then and there.

***

Vegeta examined the scouter's star chart carefully for something, anything that might aid him. His eyes fell upon a planet about a week's journey away from Gerdia. His eyebrow rose; he hadn't expected to find a neighboring planet. He queried the scouter, and gasped in astonishment when he realized which planet it was. A shiver of excitement rushed over him. This was it! This was the answer he'd been looking for!

"Yardrat..."