Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Wherever You Will Go ❯ Ch 1 ( Chapter 1 )

A B/V set in the Mirai Timeline and inspired by a dream. I plan on covering from sometime after Frieza's return to after Trunks kills the Androids (Cyborgs, whatever, who cares?) in his timeline. It will go further than that however, in more than one sense.

All characters except ones obviously not, are Akira Toriyama's creations.

Wherever You Will Go

Bulma sighed as she walked through the front door. She plopped down on the couch and toyed with the choice of either turning on or leaving off the TV. She opted on the latter. Somehow she didn't think escaping from reality would help her deal with it now.

So, she had gone to Namek to wish her boyfriend, Yamcha back. She had gone through some terrifying ordeals, including one with a frog that she didn't even want to think of, and had finally succeeded in bringing him back only to find that the man was-different somehow.

Sure, he was still arrogant, although his arrogance paled when compared to Vegeta's. He still seemed to have a fire for fighting that was matched by her's for mechanics, yet it had seemed dim when Frieza had arrived. He hadn't wanted to fight…but run. Even his attention on her had wavered, not that it had ever been very strong, but he had seemed-distracted.

Today she had went over as she always did on a Friday night to be with him. She had vowed, after his death, that she would spend more time with him and not take him for granted in any sense. It seemed that he hadn't vowed the same.

Her look had been one of complete shock as he told her that he was moving to the city. He'd explained his reasons and she'd barely heard something about better training facilities and a steady job. Yamcha must have thought that she'd gone into shock with the long silence and the stunned look still plastered on her face.

"Bulma? You're okay with this-aren't you?"

Bulma shook herself mentally and recalled every time they had broken up only to go back out again, every time she had accused him of cheating, every time she felt a pang of something missing even when she was with him.

"Do you ever feel like there's something more?"

Yamcha was totally floored by the question, "What do you mean?"

Bulma sighed and looked to the side, carefully studying the carpet at her feet. It may have been white once, but was gray now; like her mood had turned. "I mean, I think we should just be friends. I don't think-I just think that when you go, we should part as friends."

Bulma would have felt horrid for the words coming out of her mouth; that had been a long time in coming, if it wasn't for the fact that Yamcha looked slightly relieved. "Yeah. I know what you mean. I agree. I've felt that way ever since I was wished back. Kinda like I needed to get away," his eyes pleaded for her to not be mad at him.

She smiled in understanding. It would have been hypocritical of her to get angry with him. She had felt that too.

Yamcha smiled back, He'd better take good care of her.

With that, Bulma and Yamcha's ten-year relationship had ended. And, although she was glad they had left as friends, she couldn't help but feel saddened. Their relationship had been something familiar. Something she could always depend upon being there. Now it felt as if she was free falling. She didn't know if she liked the feeling.

"Woman, why are you sitting like a rock instead of making my supper? You can be lazy some other time that doesn't require you to wait on me."

Bulma rolled her eyes as she rose up to turn around and face the Prince of the Saiyans. "Well excuse me, Vegeta. I forgot that the only ones that can be lazy are you princes."

Vegeta scowled. She was referring to the time when one of his late-night training sessions had caught up with him while he was on the couch. He had awoken to find the woman asking if he was having a nice nap. When she'd commented on how cute he'd looked, his temper had snapped. That had been one of the more memorable fights.

"It is a privilege of royalty. Something you, being a frail, pathetic human, would know nothing about." He disdainful put his nose in air and stalked into the kitchen. "I expect my food served in thirty minutes, woman."

Bulma followed him into the kitchen and started pulling food and various utensils and cooking apparatuses out. "Only if you want your food inedible, your highness."

Vegeta looked blankly at her as he sat down at the table and said innocently, "It was edible before?"

Bulma gritted her teeth and turned around, slamming down various pots and pans in her frustration. She'd let him have this battle.

Vegeta merely chuckled. This woman was so-amusing. Sometimes he thought that she was here purely to be a source of entertainment to him. Nothing else on this mudball of a planet was this interesting. Well, except defeating Kakarott. But that would be amusing in it's own way.

As Bulma boiled water and did other things by looking at the back of boxes, the phone rang. She was only too glad to leave the room and answer it, ignoring Vegeta's glare.

"Hello? Oh, hi dad. Yeah, I guess we're fine. Our guest is still being a royal pain in the- What? A new employee? When? Oh, ok. I can get there then. And I'll meet him and show him the ropes. What's his name? Ok. I'll try. But if you find a certain prince's dead body when you come home- I know, but he could be a little nicer. Yes, dad. Love you too. Bye."

Vegeta had heard the entire conversation. It wasn't as if the woman was trying to keep her voice down. As she reentered the kitchen, he folded his arms across his chest, "Fifteen minutes."

Bulma stuck out her tongue at him and continued fixing the food at her speed. Which meant that it took thirty minutes.

* * *

Vegeta woke up. That was how he always awoke. No bleary-eyed look, no slow regaining of consciousness, just an alert, at-attention wakefulness that he had trained his body in since he had been under Frieza.

Vegeta did not dream either. Dreams were frivolous fantasies for those who couldn't find real satisfaction in life. Sure, he supposed he could've dreamt of going Super Saiyan, but it would've been a waste of time. He would go Super Saiyan in reality and then defeat Kakarott once and for all. He saw no reason to have a dream of a reality. It would merely be a redundancy.

Memories though, he had those. Humans called them nightmares, but nightmares referred to fantastical monsters and hopeless situations that were far from real. His nightmares were real. Memories.

He was soon dressed and started downstairs. He was, as always, up at 5:30. His biological clock was also trained.

He had two hours before he could wake the woman up to demand food without her using the excuse that it was still dark and, therefore, must be night. He used this time to train, a warm-up really. It wouldn't do to work up an appetite before he could actually eat. He was more considerate of his stomach than another Saiyan he could name.

As he headed downstairs he heard the woman shift in her sleep and hurried a little faster to the gravity room. For some reason, the sound of her moving on her bedsheets had evoked thoughts he'd rather not think too hard on. Sure, she was attractive. But that's as far as it went.

* * *

Bulma groaned and rolled over as an insistent pounding on her door woke her up. Rolling over did nothing to stop the noise or the voice that came afterwards.

"Woman! I want food. Now!"

"Fix it yourself," she mumbled, pulling a pillow over her head.

There was a pause and she felt a lightening in her chest at the thought that he might have left. Her hopes were brutally smashed as the knocking continued, "If you don't get up now I'll come in there!"

Bulma reared out of bed and grabbed the closest thing to her; the alarm clock, and chucked it at the door with all her might. As the sound of it hitting the door faded, she heard chuckling from the other side.

"Really, woman. I hope that wasn't supposed to hit me." She could hear his smirk.

"No, you jerk! It was supposed to keep you out 'cause I'm getting up." She did that and quickly got dressed, remembering she had to go to work and show the new guy, Henry, around.

By the time she got downstairs, Vegeta was sitting at the table, fork in one hand, knife in the other, both pointed straight up. She paused in the doorway and giggled at the sight. It was so-cute, although using cute and Vegeta in the same sentence was a scary notion.

Vegeta glared at her, thankfully unaware of her thoughts, "Whatever you're on, I hope it won't lessen your already meager cooking abilities. I see nothing funny, woman."

Bulma continued to snicker as she pulled out some eggs and pancake mix, "The only thing I'm on is happy. It's not everyday you get to meet a man from another country."

Vegeta frowned, "I'd hardly say I'm from another country." Boy, is she in a good mood. Not even a frown.

"Not you, silly. A new guy that's going to be working for dad and me. His name is Henry and he's got that sexy accent all foreign men have."

Vegeta frowned in confusion. Sexy accent? All foreign men have one? I have a sexy accent?

Bulma turned and frowned at him, "What? Eggs aren't good?"

Vegeta brought himself back to his food, not a hard task, "You're eggs are never good. When is that mother of yours coming back? I want to know when I can get eatable food."

Bulma sighed and shook her head, "Please. After the first ten times it stopped getting original."

Vegeta looked at her in mock shock, "Ten, huh? That's longer than most of your criticisms."

Bulma rolled her eyes this time. "Well, as much as I'd love for one of our arguments to put me in a bad mood, I have a certain someone I have to meet. Hopefully he's handsome too." She'd said the last in a joking manner and looked out of the corner of her eyes to see his reaction.

She was shocked to see-something-flicker across his eyes, to be replaced by a sneer. "Wouldn't matter. No man in his right mind would find you attractive."

Bulma got up and left the room quickly, before she ended up throwing something at him.

Fifteen minutes later, she pulled up in front of work and looked carefully at the blue sports car parked in front.

That must be him. I wonder where- Oh-ho! There he is, indeed!

To say the man was handsome would be the understatement of the century. The man was built like a Greek god, with all the looks to match.

She couldn't help but compare the guy to Vegeta and note that his muscles had that lean, toned look that spoke of much use instead of big, bulging muscles she actually found sickening. He had Vegeta on height though. He had about half a foot on him. And his hair was a dark black that was cut in a style that Bulma found all too appealing.

As she got out of the car she appreciated what she had chosen to wear. It revealed enough without saying 'Yo, slut right over here!'

Henry seemed to appreciate it too, for he looked admiringly at her with piercing blue eyes for a long moment as she checked him over. It was lust at first sight.

"Never in all my years of being have I seen such an exquisite creature!" the god finally spoke. Bulma almost melted right there. Sexy accent was right!

Bulma couldn't help but grin at the man, "You're not too bad yourself." She mentally smacked herself, sure the guy would be turned off by her boldness, but he merely grinned back.

"I do so hope you are the woman I am supposed to meet. For if you are not, I shall surely have to quit this job and go to work where you do," the man put a hand over his heart melodramatically.

Bulma smiled, "I'm happy to inform you that you won't have to quit. I am she." She put out a hand to shake his, "My name is Bulma."

"And mine is Henry, as I am sure you already know." He took her hand, and with a quick flick of his wrist had kissed the back of it.

Bulma could have died right then and been a happy woman, "Oh. Right. Well, this way please. I'll give you the tour."

Henry, shook his head, "I have seen everything I need to convince me to work here."

Embarrassingly enough, Bulma giggled. Oh, I like him!

* * *

Vegeta stood near the kitchen doorway with a perfect view of the front door. That Henry guy the woman had been gushing over for the last week was actually man enough to come pick her up, instead of them just meeting somewhere.

He had yet to see this guy and wanted to so he could quickly dissuade him from seeing the woman ever again. Ever since they had begun 'dating' the woman had little or no time to fix his meals or gravity room. That would not do.

Right on cue, at least for Vegeta's patience, the doorbell rang. Bulma practically floated down the stairs wearing a long red dress that swooped down to accent her chest and slit up to accent her legs.

Vegeta couldn't help but stare and straightened immediately, like an officer coming to attention when someone of higher rank enters the room.

Bulma barely glanced at him before going to the door. Ever since she and Henry had begun dating Vegeta had become more withdrawn. His bantering had stopped altogether and he hardly even spoke to her except to make demands. She was surprised to realize that she missed their arguments.

Dismissing thoughts that would upset her, she put a smile on her face and opened the door. The smile became genuine when Henry gracefully entered and handed her a single, red carnation. Bulma moved to let him in and sniffed the carnation with a dreamy smile.

"It means passion." Henry stated, delighted that she liked the flower.

A snort from the side drew both of their attentions to the man who definitely looked more than a little peeved.

Henry moved toward Vegeta with anything but a friendly look on his face, "Is this the man that causes you such distress?"

Bulma frowned, "Well, I never said he caused me-"

"But he antagonizes you purposely and causes you to be unhappy." It was not a question.

Vegeta's eyes narrowed dangerously, "If you knew what was good for you, you'd leave and not come back."

"Vegeta!"

By this time, though, no amount of persuasion from Bulma would sway either man. They were staring at each other as every two males with a female on the line from time immortal had, human or not.

Henry straightened and smiled as if he'd just discovered something, "You, my friend, are the one who should leave."

"Henry, I don't think-"

"I'm not your friend." Vegeta growled, looking down at him even from his disadvantaged height.

"No, you are not," Henry coldly stated, eyes like glaciers. Vegeta felt cold from their stare, but never backed an inch. Henry suddenly barked a laugh and turned his back to the prince.

Vegeta felt his temper snap in a very fatal way for the man in front of him. No one turned their back to him.

As he powered up he suddenly saw Bulma right beside Henry, clinging to his arm. The look in her eyes-it was so pleading yet condemning him in every way for what he was going to do.

It stayed his hand. It undid him right there, standing halfway between the kitchen and living room. It crushed him as she turned with Henry and walked out the door.

Through a pain he hadn't felt in years, Vegeta realized that there was something about Henry-Henry felt genuinely dangerous. Not to him though, to Bulma.

He snorted. I care nothing for her! They could get married for all I care. These pathetic humans and all their ways can go to Hell! Including her!

So saying, he stormed to the gravity room to relieve the knot in his chest with the wanton destruction of the bots.