Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ When You Least Expect ❯ I'll never understand. ( Chapter 10 )

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AN: Thanks for all the support.

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"Lord Frieza?"

Frieza frowned and looked up from his plate. He had been dining alone in his quarters having had enough of Cell's company, not that he provided much. The giant grasshopper was starting to piss him off. He was the owner of this damn ship and he hated the fact that Cell treated him as a subordinate. Leaving him out of plans, talking down to him, ordering his men around, these were not things he was used too. And he didn't plan to get used to them either.

"What is it?" he asked the solider.

"We believe we have a lock on her position," the boy answered.

They had been using their advance ki technology to trace the princess's low energy signal, again at Cell's demand. "Finally. Where is she?"

"Well…all we know now is that she's on a Saiyan space ship," he said nervously.

"Saiyan?" Frieza asked. For some reason it sounded familiar…

"Yes Saiyan. They're a race of warriors that are well known in the fifth quadrant for their astonishing power."

Astonishing power? he thought. "Go on. I'm listening."

"Tha- that's all I know, my Lord," the boy stuttered fearing his master's wrath.

Frieza thought for a moment then turned to the boy. "Very well. That will be all."

The boy bowed but did not make a move to leave.

"Did I forget something?" Frieza asked.

"Should I inform Lord Cell of this new development?" he asked hesitantly.

"No," Frieza said after a moment receiving a look of surprise from the solider. "No, I think we'll keep this information to ourselves. Understood?"

"Of course my lord." The boy bowed then left the room.

Frieza stood up and walked over to his window. Something didn't add up here. If these warriors were so well known why hadn't Cell mention them when they were from his part of the galaxy. No, he had been a fool to think he could trust the insect in their partnership. It looked like it was time he started planning Cell's demise.

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Bulma ran the brush through her long blue locks. She smiled into the mirror but the smile didn't remain long. She had been here a week and she was still no closer to getting home. She had stopped trying her link two days ago and was quickly losing hope of ever being rescued. The strange thing was that even though she was dying to go home, she wasn't as afraid as before.

She owed that to Eighteen. In the short time that she had been here, they had become very close. Partly because they we're the only women on the entire craft but also because the woman seemed to go out her way to make Bulma feel safe. She had told Bulma that she had been brought on the voyage as a companion to both the prince and Lady Marron. According to her, whenever a royal ship left the docks of Vegetasei there was always a female companion for the prince/king aboard and a companion for every female aboard. The prince had chosen her to fill both positions because she had already worked as a handmaid for Lady Marron's family before. Thus far she hadn't had much to do since the lady could not be found and the prince only required that she dine with him once a week.

Bulma sat down her brush, placed her elbows on the vanity and rested her chin on her fists. It was also through Eighteen that she learned so much about the intriguing owner of the ship. In her stay here she had realized that her opinion of the Saiyan prince had began to change. Not because of any change in the prince's attitude towards her though. Since her first night here she had seen little of him but on the rare occasions that she did see him, he made it a point to ignore her or make some rude comment. He refused to touch the subject of taking her home for reasons she didn't understand and he wasn't willing to tell. Her first impression of him had been that he was a monster but Eighteen had convinced her that he wasn't that bad. He was just a jerk sometimes.

That was another thing that baffled her. Whenever you heard the inhabitants of the ship speak of their prince it was in awe. One would think he walked on water from the way they talked. And yet whenever they are in his presence they shrink away in fear. It was so strange. On the Isles the people never feared the ruling house, only respected them. She wasn't naïve though. She knew that in some cultures, fearing the monarchy was customary but she had never known people to both fear and admire their ruler. These Saiyans were strange creatures indeed. And it wasn't just the Saiyans either. Eighteen and the other servants on the ship reacted the same way towards the grumpy ruler. Bulma sighed. She'd never understand it.

"Bulma?"

Bulma turned on her stool and looked at the door. "Hi Eighteen! Come in."

The blond stepped into the room with three dresses over her arm. "I fixed the bust line in these for you," she said with a smile.

Bulma returned the smile as she walked over to the bed where Eighteen was laying the dresses out for inspection. On the day they had met, they had explored her room and found an entire wardrobe in the closet. The clothes wore all in her size with the exception of the chest, which was much too small. Funny, since Eighteen had told her that Lady Marron was bigger in that department than she. Obviously she wasn't as …um…modest as Bulma.

"These look wonderful! Thank you so much, Eighteen," she said giving her a hug.

Eighteen smiled as she pulled back slightly. Such affection was not the norm for her, but she was starting to get use to Bulma's loving displays. "No problem," she said as she moved to hang up the dresses.

Bulma sat on the bed and watched her. "Eighteen?"

"Yes?" she said over her shoulder.

"How did you get your nickname?"

Eighteen smiled over her shoulder as she hung up the last dress. "It's quite simple actually. You see, I had a large family and I am the eighteenth grandchild."

Bulma smiled. "That's so sweet. What happened to your family?"

A sad look came over her face as she turned around. She hesitated a moment before she spoke. "Four years ago my planet was purged. Several of the young people, including my brother and me, were taken as slaves and the rest were killed. On the auction block I was spotted by a Saiyan merchant that was shopping for servants for the nobility of the planet. That's how I ended up in the home of Sir Kagon, Lady Marron's stepfather."

Bulma placed her hand over her heart as she murmured, "I'm so sorry."

Eighteen attempted a weak smile. The ladies stood in silence for a moment before Bulma spoke.

"Do you know what happened to your brother?"

The sadness deepened in her crystal blue eyes as she tried to hold her smile. "No, but I hope to one day find him. We were always close, Seventeen and I."

Bulma stood and walked over to her friend, placing a comforting hand on her arm. "When I get home, I promise to help you find him."

Eighteen smiled. Though she knew there was nothing Bulma could do to help her, such a kind offer was rare and very touching. "Thank you. Now I have to go. Tonight is the night that I dine with the prince and I can not be late," she said stepping past Bulma.

"What exactly do you two do at these weekly diners?" Bulma asked curiously.

"Do? Well we eat of course," Eighteen answered the silly question.

"Just eat? Don't you talk or anything?" Bulma asked. It would be awful to have to eat in silence once a week with Prince Vegeta.

"Talk? Why would we do that?" Eighteen asked truly puzzled.

"I don't understand him. Why would he require that you eat with him when he just ignores you?"

Eighteen shrugged her shoulders. "Prince Vegeta's reasoning often only makes sense to Prince Vegeta. Anyhow, I don't mind obeying his only request as long as he asks nothing more of me."

Her meaning was not lost on Bulma and she had to say she agreed but she was still intrigued by this strange custom. She wanted to see it for herself.

"Eighteen, would you mind if I joined you tonight?" Bulma asked.

Eighteen bit her bottom lip. "I'm not sure that's a good idea-"

"Oh, please Eighteen! I'm dying to get out of this room. I promise not to be any trouble."

"Well…okay. I'm sure the prince won't even notice you. I hope."

"Great!" Bulma said. "Let's go." She linked her arm with a reluctant Eighteen and together they left the room.

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When they entered the grand dining room, Bulma gawked at the large array of food spread across the table that was long enough to seat fifteen. It was disgusting. She hated excess especially in royalty. Whenever she saw elaborate displays such as this she thought of all those without and she just got angry. A small grunt of disgust escaped her lips.

Eighteen turned to her questioningly when she heard the sound. "What's wrong?"

"This is awful! All this food for just two people. What exactly is he trying to prove with such waste?"

"Waste?" Eighteen said at first in confusion. When she realized what Bulma was talking about she smiled. "You don't know much about Saiyans, do you?"

"I know that there is no way that you two could have eaten all this food alone," she said matter-of-factly.

Eighteen smiled. "I think your opinion will change in the next hour."

Bulma was unable to respond because a door at the other end of the room swung open. Two guards entered and stood at attention on either side of the door. With more confidence then one man should have, Prince Vegeta strolled into the room. Eighteen immediately lowered her head. Bulma followed suit.

Vegeta walked over to them and frowned at the blue head before he turned to the blond.

"What is she doing here?" he demanded.

"She wishes to dine with us, your highness." She continued to stare at the floor.

"I did not authorize this," he said.

"No, your majesty," she answered looking up at him.

He frowned then turned to Bulma. "I don't want to hear a word from you, princess. Understood?"

Bulma was about to tell him what he could do with his order when she felt more than saw Eighteen's eyes pleading with her. So instead she nodded obediently. He scowled down at her then walked back to his end of the table and sat. Bulma and Eighteen quickly took their seats.

For the next hour Bulma sat in stunned silence as she watch the Saiyan neatly and very gracefully inhaled everything sat before him. When she was finally able to look away she noticed Eighteen smiling at her. The look on her face obviously saying `I told you so'. When the meal was done, Vegeta looked at them for the first time since he had sat down.

"We are done here. You are dismissed," he said.

The two women stood to leave but before they reached the door his voice stopped them. "You stay here, princess."

Bulma's heart jumped into her throat as her eyes begged Eighteen not to leave her. But of course there was nothing the servant could do.

"Goodnight, Bulma."

"Goodnight."

Eighteen turned to Vegeta. "Your majesty," she said dipping into a small curtsy. Vegeta grunted. With an encouraging smile, Eighteen left Bulma to her fate.

The prince wiped his hands one last time with his napkin. Then stood up and walked to the door, completely ignoring Bulma. He said something in a low voice to the two guards and they nodded eagerly and left the room. Finally Vegeta looked back at her and grunted then left the room. Bulma took this as a signal to follow him.

They walked down the hall towards her room in silence. On several occasions Bulma glanced at her companion. He was so peculiar. Why would a person demand that someone walk with them then ignore them?

"Is there a problem, princess?" he growled after a moment.

"No. You're just very odd."

He frowned and looked at her, "Odd?"

Bulma bit her lip as she thought about her next words. Personally she couldn't care less how he took her next statement but she didn't want him taking out his anger at her on anyone else, especially Eighteen. "Yes. You have strange tendencies, that's all."

They had reached her door. Vegeta stopped and narrowed his eyes at her. "If you're not careful I might take offense to your comment."

"You may take it anyway you wish, your majesty," she said with the same distaste that he often used with her.

Vegeta took two steps towards her, causing her to back against the wall. He placed his hand on the right side of her head leaned in until his face was inches from hers.

His voice dropped dangerously low as he said, "You should watch your mouth, little princess. It's going to get you in trouble someday."

Bulma tried to steady her breathing. She was not afraid of him! To prove it she kept her gaze steady with his.

Both felt it when the atmosphere changed from hostile to something quite different. For a spilt second his eyes broke contact with hers and moved to her lips. Bulma felt her cheeks heat. When his eyes returned to hers, he frowned.

"I suggest you keep your distance, princess," he said.

"In my stay here you'll learn I don't take suggestions very well," she responded hoarsely.

He couldn't help it. The left corner of his mouth turned up at having his own words thrown back at him. He pushed himself away from the wall and looked at her. "Remember. I warned you," he said before he turned and went back the way he had come.

Bulma watched his back until he rounded the corner, then took a deep breath. She pushed herself away from the wall and touched the control panel to open her door. Before entering she threw one last look in the direction he had gone and shook her head. She was right. She would never understand him.

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