Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Vengeance ❯ Chapter 11

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragonball Z, or any of the characters featured therein; they belong to Akira Toriyama and whoever he's decided to share them with. If I did, Puar's gender would have been made more concrete.

Author's Notes: Thanks for all the kind reviews. I'm very glad that you guys are enjoying this so far, and I'm pleased to report that some stuff happens this chapter!

.

.

PRESENT DAY

.

.

“Puar, I need to talk to you.” Bulma's voice startled the little cat, who'd been napping on the back of the couch.

“What's up, Bulma?” He asked, rubbing sleep from his eyes as he floated toward her.

“In my lab please, if you don't mind.” She said quietly, stunning him. He blinked, confused by her subdued attitude, but followed when she turned and walked away. He wondered what she possibly had to say to him, that she refused to speak in the presence of the others. It was only Krillin and Tien, after all. He trailed her into the lab, not too surprised when she asked him to close the door behind him. He did, and the silence after it swooshed shut was palpable. She stood, frowning over at him, a sad, almost disappointed look on her face.

“What's going on?” He broke the silence, unable to bear her scrutiny any longer.

“We have a leak.” Bulma said, her eagle eyes watching Puar's surprised reaction. “Frieza somehow knew that Vengeance was going to be on Chisal; that's why he sent the Saiyans there.”

“Wha...who is it?” Puar was shocked, and his little mind raced with the effort of trying to guess who it might have been.

“That's what I've been trying to figure out.” Bulma said, turning toward her computer and bringing up a hidden window. “I hate to do this Puar, but you really haven't given me much of a choice.” She motioned him over, and he was shocked to see that she'd pulled up a message history; his message history. “I need you to tell me why, Puar.”

“Y...you think it was me?” He asked, shocked.

“There are several transactions listed here, taking place between you and a code belonging to one of the Saiyans under Frieza's control. If you tell me that you had nothing to do with it, I'll believe you.” She said, almost pleading, as though she truly wished he were innocent. He wished he were.

“Have you read them, Bulma?” He asked after a moment, his cheeks hot beneath peachy fur.

“N...no.” She admitted, looking away. “I wanted to give you a chance to explain yourself first.”

“Read them,” Puar said, floating down to click on the first message that Radditz had sent him, then moving back to let her see, “and then I'll explain. If I try to explain first, I'm not sure you'll believe me.”

Bulma sat down, fixed her eyes on the screen, and promptly did a double take. “Umm...okay, I think I've seen enough.” She sputtered, embarrassed.

“No, read them all. If you don't, you'll never know that this one isn't a cover.” As much as he didn't want to, Puar clicked on the next message for her and she read, her cheeks growing hotter and hotter with each successive note.

“Well?” He squeaked, when she had finished the last note, a particularly erotic description of the things that Puar wanted to do with Radditz's tail.

“Umm, that's kind of hot?” Bulma squeaked, so relieved that she'd been wrong about her friend, but at the same time shocked for the second time that day by one of her more conservative friends' racy sex lives. “Look Puar, I,” she began, closing her eyes for a moment and touching fingertips to a throbbing head. “I'm so sorry I suspected you.”

“What else could you do, under the circumstances?” The cat asked, settling down on the desk after closing the last of the embarrassing messages. “I admit that I would have been suspicious too.” Bulma reached out and scratched him behind the ear, a wry smile on her face.

“Thanks Puar. You're a good friend.” She said, before sitting back in awkward silence. They both eyed each other up.

“I...um...I imagine you're wondering...”

“Oh Kami, yes!” Bulma burst out. “I didn't want to ask...well, I did, but I didn't think I should.”

“Give me your blazer a minute.” Puar said, and Bulma shrugged out of her jacket. “You remember that night on Chisal? When I went out to get some air? Well, I actually went out to a bar.” Puar settled it over his body, closed his eyes, and a moment later, a very handsome naked man was sitting on Bulma's computer desk, wearing nothing but her blazer, conveniently draped over his lap. “Looking like this.” He blushed and looked away as Bulma ogled him with wide, surprised eyes. “Clothed, of course. I met Radditz there and we...ah...hit it off.” He finished.

“I'm...shocked.” Bulma said, slowly, and Puar felt shame pooling in his belly. She probably thought he was awful for sleeping with Radditz. He was certain that she was disgusted at how he'd given it up to a complete stranger, and a genocidal Saiyan, at that. She cocked her head and studied him, and he felt her eyes raking over his body, imagining the nasty thoughts she must have been thinking about him. She opened her mouth and he cringed, shrinking into himself, not quite sure he could hold it together if she vocalized any of those thoughts. “I had no idea you were gay.” She said, reaching out to touch his hand. “And I've got a pretty good gaydar.”

“You're not mad?” Puar asked, daring to open his eyes and look at her.

“What? Why would I be mad? I've just found out that one of my best friends is definitely not the traitor.” She leaned over and hugged him, ignoring the fact that he was stark naked. “Puar, I'm overjoyed!” She stepped back, smiling, and eyed him up and down. “You know, you're pretty cute.”

“I copied Yamcha's general build,” he squirmed under her coat, “and your features. It works better if I model my shapes after something, rather than just coming up with them out of thin air.”

“Plus, who wouldn't want to look like me?” Bulma preened, patting her hair. “Seriously though Puar, you shouldn't be afraid of letting everyone know.”

“I...Radditz was supposed to be a onetime thing. I never meant it to turn into...well, whatever it's turned into.”

“I didn't mean Radditz, silly,” Bulma laughed. “I meant letting everyone know you're gay. I think Radditz will come as less of a shock if the others realize you're into dudes first.”

“I don't exactly intend to make this thing with Radditz a big deal.” Puar blushed before popping back into cat form. “He doesn't know about this part of me. The real one. He thinks I'm some sexy young humanoid and I have a bad feeling that he would be pissed if he found out he's been fucking a cat.”

“I don't think you can say he fucked a cat, if you weren't a cat when you guys did it.” Bulma said, though she looked like she was working through the ethics in her head. Could this really be called bestiality? She didn't think so. “But you're right; he might be mad that you're not what you presented yourself as.”

“It doesn't really matter, Bulma. I'll probably never see him again anyway. I can hold this form for a pretty long time, though. I thought about...well, maybe wearing it more often. Like, around Red Station and all.” He looked to her, as though her approval was the permission he needed.

“Do I look like I'd object to having another sexy man walking around?” Bulma grinned, and pulled the cat into a bear hug. “Now that that's settled, I do have a request of you though,” She said, getting serious. “I really need you to keep quiet on this traitor issue. Aside from us, Krillin is the only one who knows, and only because he overheard me talking to Vengeance. I don't want to create chaos by letting everyone know that one of the people on this ship is in Frieza's pocket. It would be madness.”

“Of course. My lips are sealed.” Puar squeaked, floating free of her loving death grip and trying his best to smooth down the fur she'd ruffled.

*

*

Gohan shifted in the cramped pod, trying not to infringe too much upon Vegeta's space. The last time he'd been in a pod with someone else, he'd been about six, sitting on Radditz's lap, and scared out of his mind after being found and “adopted” by his uncle and the other two adult Saiyans.

Now he was eight, and the idea of sitting on Prince Vegeta's lap was not one to be entertained by anyone, even when the prince was healthy. At the moment, he was barely conscious and bleeding profusely.

“Boy,” Nappa's voice came over the intercom, “how is the Prince.”

Gohan reached over Vegeta's prone body, not missing the way that the Prince's hazy eyes followed his hand, and hit the intercom button. “He's okay. Still conscious...sort of.” Vegeta snarled at that, but Gohan ignored him. If he and Radditz had had their way, Vegeta would be out cold, slumbering blissfully under the effects of anaesthetic gasses, but Nappa had been adamant that they not put the Prince under. He hadn't told them why, and Gohan had been too stressed out to ask.

“Do either of you know where we're going?” Radditz's voice chimed in.

“Red Station.” Nappa answered.

“Duh, baldy, I heard him too.” Radditz snapped, uncaring for the moment that he was being rude to his superior officer. “But I meant where the hell is Red Station?” They could hear him tapping frustratedly at his on board computer, likely trying to pin down the coordinates of their mystery destination. Vegeta, on the brink of death, had made some odd demands before allowing himself to be enclosed in his pod.

First, he'd insisted that the destination coordinates be sent only to the navigation units of the other pods so that no one accessing the on board computer could tell where they were going; not even the inhabitants of those pods. Then he'd made them rip out the tracking hardware in each pod, instructing Gohan to toss the units into his own pod, before programming it to take itself off on a little tour of the surrounding galaxy. Whatever this Red Station was, the prince was taking abnormal care in ensuring that no one would know that they were going there.

With only three pods, they'd decided it would be best if Gohan climbed in with Vegeta; that way, if there was an emergency, someone would be there to aid the ailing monarch. Vegeta had not been happy, but he'd also been in no condition to prevent his subjects from turning on him, “for his own good.” He'd snarled and grumbled and called Gohan some pretty foul things for the first hour of the trip, before his strength began to dip to frightening levels.

“Give it up, Radditz. None of us know any better than you do.” Nappa growled irritably. They'd all been too keyed up to even consider putting themselves into the stasis that normally occurred during pod-travel, and the time trapped inside the little balls was beginning to wear on them.

*

*

“Yo, Earth to Tien,” Krillin waved his hand in front of his friend's face. Getting no response, he tried a little higher, to see if maybe the third eye was a little more responsive. “TIEN!”

“Wha...what?” Tien sputtered, jumping in his seat with the shock of Krillin's shout.

“It's your move, man.” Krillin gestured to the checkers board. “What's the deal? You kind of spaced out after Puar and Bulma left.” He frowned at the board as the other man made yet another sloppy move in a string of the same. He'd never played checkers with Tien before, but he'd thought the other man would have had more of a mind for strategy than he was currently displaying.

“Ahh, it's nothing.” Tien said, then, changing his mind, he spoke again. “Well, not really. It seems like everyone has a big secret that I'm not being let in on, and I don't like it. I'm not some outsider. You've all said it enough yourselves, I'm one of you.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “It's like none of you trust me, or something.”

Krillin was taken aback. They'd all known that Tien was upset at not being included in the most recent mission, but the monk hadn't quite been prepared to be pounced on in such a manner. “It's not that we don't trust you...” he began, tentatively picking up his game piece and making a move. “It's...well, we don't know where you stand.” He shrugged, apologetically. “What we're doing can be dangerous. We don't know how you'll hold up to that. When we have something less life threatening, you're in.” He tried to smile, but faltered in the face of Tien's answering scowl.

“Fine.” The three eyed man said, petulantly picking up a piece to make a move. “King me.”

It was Krillin's turn to grimace. He hadn't even seen that one coming.

*

*

Chichi sat next to Sixteen, neither of them saying a word. Chichi's face was redder than he was sure was healthy, but the android remained silent about it, not quite understanding the feeling of discomfort that had settled over him. He'd wanted to talk to her for a week now - not about anything in particular, he'd just missed her company - but he'd sensed that something had changed between them so he'd pretended not to notice the way she scurried out of a room whenever he entered, always off with some flimsy excuse or another.

“Have I made you angry?” He finally broke the silence, the suddenness of his deep voice surprising her. “I have missed you this past week.”

“Oh, no Sixteen, you didn't do anything.” Chichi sighed. “I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you.”

He cocked his head. “Miss Chichi, I am not hurt. My body is fully intact and I am experiencing no pain.”

“Ahh...I meant emotionally, not physically.” She muttered, but spoke up when she noticed his puzzled gaze. “Do you not understand that?” She asked, earnestly. “Don't you feel sad ever?”

“Sad?”

“You said you missed me. When you miss someone, it's because you're sad that they're gone.” Chichi reached out and took his hand, looking up at his face as he seemed to process the information.

“Yes.” He said, finally. “I was sad. Thank you; I can put a name to that now.”

“Err...you're welcome, I guess.” Chichi frowned, not sure if she was pleased to be the one to introduce sadness into someone's life. Rather a terrible accomplishment, she thought.

“You are sad, because you miss your husband, are you not?” Sixteen asked, and not for the first time, she was disturbed by the keen perception he displayed, for a machine.

“I...I am.” She said, squeezing his big hand in her own little one. “I miss Goku very much, Sixteen, and I was trying to assuage that by...by...” she blushed. “Do you understand what happened in the change room?”

“You wanted to perform sex with me.” He said, and she squirmed with discomfort. “But I am lacking in that anatomy. You must forgive me, I never thought to inform you. I only became aware of the importance of the penis when Master Roshi and Oolong told-“

“Oh Kami, stop right there!” Chichi slapped a hand over his mouth. “If it's got to do with those two perverts, I don't want to hear it. And you shouldn't either.” Then, as an afterthought, “If you have any questions about sex, come ask me and I'll tell you. Please don't listen to a word they say.”

Sixteen thought on that for a moment, before turning to look at her. “So is it true that-“

Chichi's scream resounded throughout the whole space station, momentarily deafening everyone but Dr. Briefs, who couldn't hear very well anyway. Roshi and Oolong had no way of knowing what kind of conversation was taking place at that moment, but something deep in their bones told them that they were about to be in very big trouble.

*

*

“Vegeta,” Nappa's gruff voice came through the com-link. “You there?” The prince grunted in response, and Nappa was relieved. He knew that Vegeta needed sleep, but he was worried about allowing the prince to doze while the boy was not up to watch over him. Gohan had finally fallen asleep after two days of straight nurse-duty, watching over their slumbering monarch. Nappa did not recall ever seeing the prince so damaged - outwardly he appeared stable, but the severity of his internal wounds was frightening, and though they'd done their best to patch him up, Gohan had reported that the blood had begun to seep through their makeshift bandages. Vegeta had also suffered several severe coughing fits, after which he spat copious amounts of bloody mucus, and his breathing sounded wet and laboured. Nappa suspected that the Prince's lungs were filling, slowly drowning him in his own blood.

“What do you want, Nappa?” He wheezed out, cringing at the pain it caused him. All he wanted to do was sleep. Why were the damn fools not letting him sleep? The fucking kid was out of it, he didn't hear them calling his name over again.

“Are you in pain, my lord?”

“Oh, fuck off, Nappa.” Vegeta barked as best he could, and Nappa cringed to hear the slurred, tired words.

“By the Gods, Vegeta, save your strength.” Nappa chided.

“I would, if you would let me sleep, you overgrown son of a...a...” he struggled to speak as a coughing fit overcame him, wracking his whole body, weak as he was.

“When the cub awakens.” Nappa insisted, wishing that there were some way that he could have ridden with the prince instead. “Now how long until we arrive.”

“Quit pestering me, you stupid shit.”

“I could, your Highness, if only you had allowed me access to the coordinates. Again, will you tell me our ETA?”

“We're there when I say we're there.”

“Fine Vegeta, if you're going to be difficult.” Nappa growled, frustration gnawing at his core. He listened carefully, thought he heard the Prince's breathing even out, and feared that he might slip into a coma if he was allowed to sleep unattended. “Vegeta,” he pestered, trying to keep his charge awake, “are we there yet?”

*

*

“Bulma, get out here quick!” It was Oolong, of all people, panting so hard she thought the little piggy might have a heart attack. She quickly shut the window she'd been working in and sprang up to follow the little guy. “It's...” he breathed out, between gulps of air, “there's three pods coming in fast. Your dad and Gero think that they're going to force a landing.”

“Who are they?”

“They haven't said.” Bulma's father supplied, for they had reached the Station's docking bay. “But their pods are of Empire origin.”

“Shit.” Bulma cursed, looking around at the scared faces around her. “SHIT!” She was panicking, quickly losing the battle for calm, focused thought. The mole, it had to be. The fucking traitor had finally sold them all out, it must be that! “How many of them?” She asked, forcefully grabbing the reins of her wildly galloping thoughts.

“There are only three ships.” It was Chichi who answered. “I've been hailing them, but I'm not getting an answer.”

“Do you think they're trying to surprise us?”

“No, they know they've been hailed, I'm sure of it. They know that we know they're coming.”

“So they're just assholes.” Bulma spat, bitterly, and tried not to glare at those around her. All her hard work at cloaking their operation, down the drain. She wondered if the soldiers in those pods had orders to execute them all. “Wait here. I'll be back.” She ran off, sprinting down the hallways as fast as her slippered feet would allow. Back in her lab, fingers blazed across the keypad to her safe, where she kept all of her prototypes. The ki-zapping gun in her hands, she slammed the safe shut and raced back to the dock.

“Mr. And Mrs. Briefs, Dr. Gero, anyone who doesn't want to end up in a fight, I want you to get back into more secure areas please,” Krillin was leading the weaker members of their little refuge forcefully back into the living quarters. “Bulma, I'd tell you to get your ass in there, too, but I know you won't listen.” He smiled wryly at her, before eyeing the gun. “That thing work?” He asked.

“Truthfully,” she patted the butt of the rifle-like contraption, “I'm not sure. Theoretically, it would knock you on your ass, but I haven't exactly put it to practice yet.”

“Well,” he thought for a moment, before continuing to herd the non-fighters through the doorway, “I won't tell them that.”

“You want me to stay?” Puar asked, floating over to Bulma. “I could transform into something real big.”

“No,” she shook her head, motioning for the little cat to go with the others. “Not today Puar. Who knows how long those guys'll be here, and you can't hold your form forever. Don't want to let them in on one of our best secrets, do we?” She tried to grin confidently at the cat, but it came out as a pathetic sort of grimace. He hesitated. “Puar, please, I need to know that they have at least some defence in there, if these guys break through.”

“Okay.” The cat nodded, once again wishing that changing form to a strong looking creature actually made him strong. Quickly, he latched on to the side of her shoulder in a quick hug, before floating in with the Briefs, Gero, Oolong and Master Roshi. The door shut and locked behind them, and Bulma gripped her gun with sweaty hands as the others prepared themselves to fight.

The floor shook with the forceful impact of the three spherical ships, crash crash crash, one right after the other. Slowly, slowly, the airlock began to close around the three visitors while hearts beat hard in the chests of those who waited. The massive doors groaned, hissing as they shut and the automated systems began to equalize the pressure and fill the room with breathable air. Ten minutes later, it was done and the panel separating the nervous residents of Red Station from their erstwhile visitors began to shift aside.

“Remind me again why we're letting them in?” Krillin asked nervously, as he crouched into a defensive stance.

“Because if we try and lock them out, they'll probably blast their way in.” Chichi answered, gripping her staff.

“And then we're all boned.” Bulma chimed in, “because without an airlock, no one can get in or out of here without killing everyone else on board.”

“Don't tell me that, Bulma.” Krillin swallowed the lump in his throat. “Now I'm going to have to worry about damaging the station instead of focusing all my energy on these guys.”

Several meters away, the first pod was cracking open. A small figure hopped out, then turned and reached back inside the pod. Bulma gasped, recognizing that small body with its long, unruly hair. She strode forward, ignoring the cries of her friends, just in time to see Gohan pull the broken, battered body of Vegeta from the pod. The Prince slumped forward, bracing himself on hands and knees as he coughed up yet more blood. That was when Bulma realized that both figures were covered in crusted blood and dirt, though Gohan appeared to be relatively unharmed. The second and third pods opened, and without a second thought, Bulma put her gun to the Prince's forehead, her hands surprisingly steady as she waited for the other two beasts to climb out.

“Don't fucking try anything,” she gestured at their leader with her gun as soon as they surfaced, “or I'll blow his brains out.”

“Don't be a stupid bitch.” Nappa snarled, advancing on her. “Like a gun could do anything to Prince Vegeta.”

“Oh, you don't remember me?” She batted her eyes at the biggest Saiyan with a confidence she didn't feel. “Because I remember you, from the presentation on Ki-reducing weapons.” She let her meaning sink in, and did her best to ignore the death glares the two functional adult Saiyans were sending her. “This baby can do some real damage, and I'm willing to bet that the little prince here is in no condition to fight off a kitten, much less me.”

“Try anything and she'll pull the trigger.” Tien said, advancing forward with Krillin and Sixteen. Chichi stood back, dumbstruck at the sight of the smallest Saiyan. She dropped her staff and it clattered to the floor as she raced forward, pushing her way past a startled Sixteen. A smaller man would have been thrown off balance, but he simply stared as he retained his footing.

“GOHAN!” she shouted, running toward the child. Radditz, seeing the panicked look on the child's face, stepped in front of his nephew and sent out a blast of energy that knocked the woman clear off her feet.

“M...mom.” He whispered. “Radditz, stop!”

“Mom?” Radditz turned, scowling, patently confused. Just as he turned, Chichi shrieked out a warrior cry and launched herself at the big Saiyan, who unfortunately was not above hitting a girl, especially not if it meant defending himself. Chichi bounced off the Saiyan as easily as if she'd just tried to plow through a mountain, and Gohan watched in frozen horror as his uncle grabbed his poor little mother by the neck and hauled her up off her feet.

“STOP IT!” Bulma screamed, jabbing the immobile prince with the muzzle of her gun. “Put her down, you fucking ape, or I'll shoot him!” Radditz growled and tightened his grip, unprepared for the small cannonball that plowed into the back of his knees.

“Gohan? What the fuck?!” He yelped as he went down - unhurt but severely inconvenienced, his grip on the human woman loosing enough to drop her to the ground. She hit the floor with a thump, coughing and gasping for breath as Gohan stood shaking, staring wide eyed at the angry uncle he'd just attacked. Immediately, he dropped into a submissive bow, kneeling on the floor like a dog baring his throat to the alpha male.

“I'm s...sorry Uncle,” he stuttered, fearful of the consequences of his actions, “but I won't let you hurt my mother.”

“Your mother?” Radditz sounded confused, as he eyed the crumpled form of the woman on the floor. “Fuck me, that bitch is your mom?” He laughed at the snarl that came out of Gohan's mouth. “That little weakling survived a Saiyan birth? Shit, Kakarott must have been weaker than we thought, if she was able to survive him rutting on her!”

“SHUT UP!” Gohan snarled, but when he looked up, he noticed that his uncle was looking appreciatively at the woman who'd hauled herself up off the ground and was glaring daggers at him. She'd recovered her staff and was looking at him as though she could slice him in half with the blunt wooden pole.

“Not as weak as I thought, maybe. Wish Vegeta hadn't broken our scouters, eh kid?” He grinned at Gohan, who relaxed a little bit at this thoroughly Saiyan show of apology.

“Radditz, you stupid shit!” Nappa shouted, “Are you forgetting that we have a situation here?” He gestured to Bulma, who was still holding her gun to Vegeta's head. The prince had managed to lift his head and they were glaring at each other, no doubt remembering the night he'd scared her into thinking she was about to be raped.

“Bastard,” she snarled, pushing the gun against his skin. “Who's in charge, now? How about I blow your skull apart, and take the kid back myself, hmm?”

“You gonna rape me first, dollface?” He taunted, leaning into the muzzle and letting it take some of his weight. Her arms began to shake with the effort of holding him up. “I'd extend you the courtesy, at least. Or maybe you're a post-mortem kind of girl.” He grinned at her disgusted face as blood seeped from the corners of his mouth. He spat a gob of bloody phlegm and it landed next to her foot, still clad in the comfy slippers that she'd been wearing that morning at her computer desk. “I hear rigor mortis can be a real treat.”

“You're sick.” She snapped, trying desperately to control the muscles in her arms. “I should just kill you and end the universe's misery.”

“Don't do it, Bulma.” Gohan was beside her. “Please, don't kill him.” She turned, saw his pleading eyes and felt her resolve soften. Damn the kid! Then she saw the two adults behind him, bloody promise in their eyes, and she turned back to glare at the Saiyan prince.

“He's a murderer.” She said, voice harder than concrete.

“So am I.” Gohan said quietly, looking away from her. “Will you kill me too?”

“I...” She stuttered. “I'm sure it's different.”

“I'm sure it's not.” He said, ignoring the sob that escaped from his mother's lips.

“This is for the good of the universe.” Bulma said, flicking the safety switch off. Her finger trembled over the trigger.

“He's Vengeance.” Gohan said, desperation tainting his voice. Bulma gasped, and Radditz roared, lunging forward. The child seemed prepared for that, for he turned and blocked, narrowly missing having his neck snapped.

“Kid, I'm gonna fucking kill you!” Radditz snarled, cornering the child. He reached out and grabbed his nephew.

“Radditz!” Vegeta burst out, and Nappa hopped quickly into action, yanking the child away from his irate uncle. Radditz glared at the biggest Saiyan and spat out some choice words.

“You can't be Vengeance. You've...you've done such...”

“What better place to hide?” Vegeta grinned his bloody smile at the ground, too weak to support the weight of his own head.

“You heartless son of a bitch.” Bulma snarled, reaching down to grab a hold of his chin. She yanked his head up forcibly, not caring if she hurt him and leaned down. “Prove it, you bastard.” Tears slipped down her face. “Codename Sable's last words. You should know this one.” She mocked him, throwing his past words back at him.

Vegeta's eyes rolled, but he forced them to focus, glaring straight at her, their noses only a few inches apart. “I love you, Blue.” He said, running a red-coated tongue over bloody teeth. Bulma snatched her hand back, as if burned, and his head lolled, chin dropping down to hit his chestplate.

“Put him in the fucking tank.” She snapped, then turned and strode away without another word.

.

.

TeamFourStar reference FTW! Hope you caught it.

Please consider leaving a review! I'd love to know what you thought.