DISCLAIMER: I am poor. I make no money from this, I'm a student, and students don't have money. I'm just a lowly fanfic writer. If I were making money, it wouldn't be FANfiction, now would it? I *DO,* however, own my original characters, who you will meet later on.

Notes:

~...blah-de-blah...~ means Vegeta's thinking something and doesn't intend for Bulma to hear it.

~yadda yadda yadda~ means Vegeta is thinking something to Bulma, because he can't speak.

'yadda yadda' are Bulma's thoughts, and as this is from her POV, they're more cohesive than Veggie's.

Many thanks to SabreBabe for beta’ing for me! You rock!

 

Chapter Two

 

It had been three weeks since that eventful day. Vegeta had left mysteriously, and no one knew where he was. Bulma had been unable to work for a few days, but had finally decided that she should steel her mind against the feelings and impressions she picked up from the prince, and try to go on as if nothing had happened. Well, not quite. SHE knew that things would never be the same, but as always, she put on her vivacious virago mask and no one was any the wiser. It was almost insulting how no one noticed any change, when she felt so…different. She could function alright during the day, but at night…at night, when she slept, her armor dropped, and she was vulnerable. Vulnerable to memories, vulnerable to fantasies, and, worst of all, vulnerable to that strange connection she had with the prince.

Her parents had come home. Okaasan continued to act the blond fool, while Otousan acted like the scatterbrained but loving father the world saw him as. 'What a load of kuso. 'Tousan should’ve been an actor.' Since she'd rediscovered that psychic ability she'd all but forgot about, she'd experimented. It gave her something to do when she couldn't concentrate on her machines.

When she was young, she blocked out the auras and thoughts because she couldn't deal with the rejection. But she was older now, she could handle it, right? Wrong. It had hurt. But as always, she had glossed the pain over, covering it, ignoring it until she could handle it.

Strangely, sleeping sometimes seemed to help her deal with her pain. She could never remember what happened, but often, when she awoke in the morning, she felt secure and happy. But other mornings, when she rose from the bed, she felt bruised and worried. Never did she awake with her usual emotions.

"Ms. Briefs? Umm, Ms. Briefs? Are you okay?" One of the junior scientists shook her out of her reverie. "Is there anything wrong? You were just staring at the parts with your eyes glazed over…do you need to go to the infirmary?"

"Of course not you baka! I was just thinking, okay?! I'm allowed to do that, right?! 'Cause if I'm not I don't know WHAT I'm doing here!"

"Ye-yes Ms. Briefs," the hapless engineer stuttered.

"Then GO AWAY and leave me ALONE!" She was obeyed. The poor college grad scurried out of the room, leaving Bulma to regret her harshness. It wasn't his fault she was so unbalanced lately. She sighed, and realized how pointless it was for her to work right now. She wasn't doing anything right. Maybe she should go shopping or something…

With that in mind, she quickly changed into something more appropriate for a trip to the mall, brushed her hair, grabbed some capsules, and left for a day on the town.

 

"Hmmm, the blue one or the black one?" She was looking at dresses, and she'd found the most exquisite gown imaginable. It was long and flowing, with a low square neck, ankle-length skirt and long sleeves. It was more concealing than she usually chose, as no leg was showing, but it was elegant. It was expensive, of course, but being heir to the richest company on the planet had its advantages. But she had no idea which one to get. The royal blue one shimmered with faint violet iridescence, while the black one sparkled with hints of silver. Both were gorgeous, but she made it a rule never to buy two of the same thing, so that her wardrobe never became monotonous.

Which revived the question: the blue one or the black one? Suddenly, she heard a voice behind her.

"While the black gown does have the classic elegance that such a shade is known for, black is overdone, but the blue, the blue brings out those sparking eyes of yours." The voice was cultured, considerate, and warm. She turned around to see one of the most handsome men she'd ever laid eyes upon regarding her. He had rich brown hair, deep green eyes, and strong build, and stood about six feet tall.

"Who—who are you?"

"Raoul Gillet, at your service, madam," he professed, bowing. Bulma raised an eyebrow. Damn, this guy knows how to treat a lady!

"Hello. I'm Bulma Briefs." Maybe a little innocent flirting was just what she needed to get over Vegeta.

"Yes, I know, you're quite famous, after all. Both for your genius, and for your…" he took her hand and placed a gentle kiss upon it. "…beauty." By this time, Bulma was blushing wildly. He really got to the point!

"Thank you. You don't look so bad, yourself." She glanced back at the dresses she was holding, and decided he was right, the blue one was better. She quickly replaced the darker dress, and started walking towards the checkout. He followed her, explaining that he had been escorting his sister here, but that her latest beau had arrived, and the two had left.

After she was finished in that store, they began walking through the mall, talking of everything from the stock market to politics to fashion to technology. Raoul was quite intelligent, and managed to keep up with her when she spoke of complex technological issues. Later, when they parted ways, they exchanged phone numbers, and agreed to talk again.

As Bulma climbed the stairs to her room, she couldn't help but think how perfect Raoul was, and how unlike Vegeta. She'd been blocking him out all day, so that he wouldn't bother her on her little impromptu date.

She hadn't yet noticed that "Raoul Gillet" was really a compilation of all of the debonair heroes of television, and that, in bright light, his features seemed a bit…translucent.

 

"Bulma, can we talk to you, honey?"

"Sure Dad." She curiously followed her parents down to the living room, trying not to snort at her father's use of the word "honey." He only acted like that when he wanted something from her.

"Bulma, you don't have a…romantic interest, do you?" 'Romantic interest?' Vegeta…like hell I'm gonna tell them that.

"No."

"Good! Because you do now."

"Huh? What're you talking about?"

"I believe you've met Raoul Gillet? Well, he asked for your hand, and we accepted, so now you're betrothed to him!"

"WHAT THE FUCK!! I'm not getting married to anyone? And how dare he ask YOU, when it should be MY decision?!?!" In her rage, the telepath unconsciously dropped the mental shield she had constructed against others.

"Bulma! I am still your father AND employer, and I'm only going to tell you this once, SIT DOWN!"

"Shove it! I'm not marrying someone just because you think I should!"

"You'll do as I say and that's final!"

"Bulma dear, listen to your father, this is what's best for you."

"Best for me, or best for the company? What're you getting out of this?"

"Nothing! This is for your own good, Bulma!"

"Yeah, right! Screw this communist bullshit, I'm outta here." So saying, she grabbed her jacket and left, the tires on her Capsule Car screaming behind her.

 

Bulma barely made it to the hotel; anger and pain were not conducive to driving. She trudged up the stairs, face twisted with negative emotions. She collapsed upon the gaudy flower bed sheets of the bed, as bitter tears burned their way down her face. How dare they? She knew they weren't the most loving of parents, but to promise the rest of her life to a man she barely knew?

"Bulma?" Her eyes widened; she knew that voice, though she'd never heard it in that tone before…

"Vegeta? Oh gods, Vegeta…." He didn't look all that well. He was thinner, and he looked pale and tired, and so very weary. He also seemed to be experiencing a bitter kind of relief, as if he'd endured some kind of constant pain, and was finally giving into it.

"You're betrothed? What does that mean?" He walked over to the bed and sat down, not moving, but not resisting when she clung to him and cried into his chest.

"It means they want me to…how do I put this, mate with him? For the rest of my life." Vegeta stiffened, angry.

"He dies." It was stated plainly, and was all the more menacing for its simplicity.

"You can't kill him Vegeta."

"Why not? Unless…you care for this human, don't you? That's it isn't it! That's why you're crying more for your parents than because you don't want to be mated to him. Figures…" with a bitter, cynical grimace, the Prince stood up, preparing to leave.

"No Vegeta! It just hurts, because it's not supposed to be my parents' decision. I don't want to marry him!"

"And that's why you keep sending thoughts on how much you like him?!" The jealousy seeped into his voice, and for once, Bulma recognized it.

"No! He's a nice guy, but I would never want to marry him!" Vegeta just stood there, unsure whether or not she was telling the truth, eaten away by jealousy and the pain of unreciprocated bonding.

"Vegeta…." She walked up to him, and took his face in her palms. She searched his eyes, looking for answers, as she dropped her guard and let her thoughts go. She saw Vegeta suck in his breath, assaulted by her thoughts…you couldn't lie in your thoughts, not without it being noticed.

As Vegeta probed her mind, she explored his. She saw the terror of his childhood, watched his memories of his only childhood friend being slowly torn asunder by bored soldiers, saw his jealousy of Kakarott, and felt the pain of defeat at the hands of Frieza. The two had sunk to the floor, clutching each other. Finally, Bulma's overtaxed clairvoyance gave out, and she fainted, leaving Vegeta, shaken, to carry her to the bed. Unfortunately, Bulma passed out just before she found out how Vegeta truly felt about her. Vegeta, unable to leave, climbed in bed with her, and held her close throughout the night.

 

Bulma awoke to the feeling of strong arms around her. 'Vegeta?'

"Hmmmph…" She smiled; Vegeta was so kawaii when he was asleep.

"Wakey wakey, sleepyhead…"

"Huh?"

"You actually slept longer than me for once, this is some kind of record."

"Bulma…" with a slight smile on his face, as if everything was right again, he sank back down onto the bed, pulling Bulma with him.

"Wow, you actually called me Bulma for once."

He just grinned at her, "Shut up." He then proceeded to grab her waist and rolled over, so that he was slightly above her. Bulma smiled. Vegeta was almost being…playful. She smiled up at him, feeling safe and secure and…*right*, in some unexplainable way.

"Vegeeeta…I really need to get up. I need to find out what’s happened with Capsule Corp."

"Hmmmph. CC can wait a few hours, can’t it?"

"Vegeta…" looking in his eyes, she could see something…dark, and needy. For some reason, he looked like he *needed* her. But Vegeta didn’t need anyone, did he? It was almost like he’d…missed her. ‘Don’t be foolish, why would he miss you? Just because you spent the majority of your days thinking about him doesn’t mean that he did the same.’ She was blocking all incoming thoughts, so she didn’t hear Vegeta’s response.

~…yes, I’ve missed you. We’re bonded, what did you expect? Or at least, *I’m* bonded….~

"CC can wait." With that, she leaned over, and covered his lips with hers. He rose, slightly, to enmesh one hand in her now-tangled hair, and the other to clutch at her back, pulling her forward almost desperately. Mouths suckled and tongues dueled, and that undistinguishable fire between them heightened to a blaze. Their kisses grew passionate, more frantic and fiery than before, both needing the comfort of their mate's flesh.

"Vege…ta…" his hands had begun their explorations, sliding along the contours of her body, removing clothing she’d never had a chance to change, as she pulled at his battle suit. When they were finally free of the restrictive garments, their lovemaking resumed again in earnest.

They clutched at each other, Bulma leaving scratches and Vegeta leaving bruises, but neither felt the wounds. Vegeta was breathing heavy, almost gasping, completely unlike the gentle prince with whom she had slept a month ago. But then again, she wasn’t as passive as she had been that time, either. She didn’t even notice the hot, salty tears that trickled their way down her face. When the kiss finally broke, Vegeta buried his face into the curve of her neck, and, without even realizing why, she rubbed his back in a comforting gesture, still crying. The tears weren’t of pain; they were caused by a sensory overload, and the elation of having her prince back in her arms. She felt a quick, sharp pain, followed by such intense pleasure, and realized that Vegeta had bitten her again. Functioning on feeling and instinct now, rather than logic, she bit him back, drinking in his sweet, exhilarating blood, as he did the same. Images flowed through her mind, but she didn’t try to capture them, and they faded away, leaving her with only a vague sense of sadness and elation.

Their hands danced intricate figures upon each other’s flesh, both already at a fever pitch, and, without further preliminaries, he thrust into her. Completion. Ecstasy. It felt so magnificent, with Vegeta inside of her, she couldn’t describe…

He moved. It felt so hot and fluid and electric and full and utterly *perfect,* she knew she wouldn’t last long. But oh, how she’d missed him. He thrust again. And again. And again and again and so many times in a dizzying crescendo of pure, distilled pleasure, until the dam inside them broke and they nearly fainted from the pleasure of it.

Whole. She felt whole.

It was a long time before she was able to form a coherent thought, but when she could, she realized that the wondrous lovemaking they’d just participated in had only taken a few minutes…

She’d been on a katana’s edge for weeks, wanting him so badly, dreaming of him, and having no idea where he was. Had Vegeta been in that state of readiness for the last month, too?

"Vegeta…?"

"Hmmm."

"What is…what is bonding?" He stiffened, but remain silent.

"Vegeta. What’s wrong?"

"You mean that after all that, you don’t know what bonding is?" His voice was very calm, but it was icy, and Bulma found it far more disturbing than when Vegeta was angry.

"N-no…."

"Shit." The tone carried with it a note of disbelief, and a touch of pain. Before Bulma could ask more, however, Vegeta had grabbed his battle suit, sans gloves and boots, and left. Apparently, Super Saiyajin speed had its uses.

"Wha--?! Vegeta! What’s wrong?! Don’t leave me…not again." The last part was whispered, but it didn’t matter, because her prince was long gone, and she didn’t even know why. Bulma dissolved into tears again that night, but this time, they were caused by sorrow.

Neither the troubled prince nor the weeping genius noticed a rather green Raoul, monitoring their actions, and not in the least disturbed by his "fiancé’s" actions.

"And now Vegeta, we know how to kill you. We will have our revenge." He then sat down in an alley and began to meditate, informing those hidden by illusion hundreds of miles away from the atmosphere of Chikyuu that he had a plan.

And thousands of miles away from them, a small ship racing at maximum speed, a young mage grumbled to herself about being forced to play babysitter to a bunch of suicidal low-level illusionists who felt they had a score to settle with the Saiyajin who had destroyed their planet.

 

Bulma did not go back to Capsule Corp. She had a small fortune in her capsules, enough to live off of, at least. So she wandered. She had no destination in mind, but moving kept her from breaking down in tears. Her pace changed, first slow and dejected, then quick and angry. How dare he? He acted so nice, so…loving, but still retaining his pride. When he’d arrived at the window to her hotel suite, she’d been so joyful. She’d thought that maybe, maybe…maybe he really did care about her. Their passion had been exquisite, frantic and hopeful and beautiful. It had felt like she had finally found what she was looking for, without even knowing she was looking. There had been such a sense of relief and completion. And then the bastard had had the gall to walk out on her. After all that they’d shared, he’d got up and left. And she didn’t even know why. All she’d done was ask what bonding was, that wasn’t too difficult a subject, was it? *He* was the one who kept thinking about it. She just wanted to know what it was and why she could hear his thoughts.

Her feet were getting tired, and she was getting close to the bad part of West Capital. She dug into her assortment of capsules , and pulled out her aircar. She set off for South Capital, thinking some sun would be nice. With the new enhancements she'd made to her aircar, it should only take her about 18 hours to get there.

 

A figure floated near a beautiful waterfall, using the din of rushing water to help him concentrate. Dark green brows furrowed, and a small, rather cute nose wrinkled in frustration. Where…What was that? He'd been sensing…something…for the last several days, but he couldn't pin it down. He tried searching for any obvious evil, but, beyond the usual humans and what malevolence remained in Vegeta and himself, he found nothing. But he knew there had to be SOMETHING! But whenever he tried to open his mind and find it, it disappeared. He couldn't even feel it long enough to tell if it was dark or not. This was really starting to piss him off. Something was shitting around on his planet, and he wasn't about to put up with it. He tried searching for aliens, but the strength of all the Saiyajins on the planet overshadowed everything else, so he couldn't pick anything up. The former Demon King blew out an angry breath and forcibly relaxed his shoulders, trying to calm his irritation, so he could try again. Maybe if he didn't search for it directly, but just did the usual scan of the world, he would stumble upon it, as he had when he originally detected it….

Piccolo fell deep into a meditative trance. No major climatic catastrophes, although the drought in the area near where Radditz had first landed wasn't helping anyone. No important stampedes of humanity. No full-blown wars. The Z fighters….Goku was at home with Gohan and the kid's mother, Krillin was at Kame House, as was Kame-sennin. Tenshinhan was with Chaotsu in the mountains, relaxing, apparently. Yamcha and the shape-shifting thing were both in West Capital, but from the feel of Yamcha's aura, he didn't even want to KNOW what he was doing. Vegeta…wasn't in West Capital. This wasn't too unusual, the asshole prince disappeared all the time. As it had been a few days ago, he was weaker than he should have been. Vegeta's aura had been fluctuating wildly, and Piccolo had no idea why. His astral form, however, seemed to be a tad larger than before. Maybe he'd been meditating more? Hmmmm, Piccolo would have to pay close attention to that particular Saiyajin for a few days.

While he was at it, he might as well check on the humans that he knew. He usually didn't bother with them, but they COULD have something to do with that…presence he'd felt. Gohan's mom was pissed at something, but that was no surprise. Kame-sennin and those creatures that stayed on his island felt like normal, Lunch was with Tenshinhan and Choutsu, Bulma was…WHAT THE HELL??? Since when did that little human have such a strong aura? She'd always been rather weak, when had this happened?! What was going on! How—

Breathe. Concentrate on the human, don't get too disturbed. Her aura had grown greatly. It was larger, well, as much "larger" as it could get in a realm without space or time. He KNEW Bulma had never made any forays into the astral realm, at least not as long as he'd known her. But now, apparently, she had, and was familiar with the area. She still had no ki to speak of, but her regular aura, the one that every living creature in the universe had, had changed. He'd have to be closer to her to see how much it had really changed, but he could investigate for now.

For someone who he'd never before seen near the astral realm, she seemed to know her way around. She wasn't there now, but she carried traces of it with her, and her upper aura was steady, not wavering as it would in someone who had just found their way there. She wasn't in West Capital, either, but seemed to be headed south. Suddenly, he felt something. Someone else was watching Bulma, too. He tried to catch whoever was after her, but the presence fled before Piccolo could catch it.

The presence felt just like whatever had been triggering his senses for the last week.

So, this thing WAS linked to Bulma Briefs. Perhaps to Vegeta, as well. Forbidding eyes opened, their dark depths positively radiating irritation at whoever was eluding him. Something was up, he knew it. He just didn't know what "something" was…

Piccolo knew that something had been watching Bulma. He didn't know that something else was watching the one who had been watching her. He didn't know it had now decided to watch him, too.

Without notice, a harmless "asteroid" blipped off the screen of all of the monitoring astronomy centers in the world.

 

"Raoul" slowly walked among the shadows, until, while no one was looking, he stepped THROUGH the wall of a rundown house.

"So?"

"I've found his weakness… and surprisingly enough, his weakness is the one I used to get close to him in the first place. The female, Bulma Briefs. SHE is his weakness. The great and mighty Prince Vegeta of the Saiyajins has women troubles, too. Oh, the irony…. Our entire army couldn't scratch him, but some pathetic little Chikyuujin can. The elders will be pleased."

" Let's just get this done and get back to New Khrischtyl as soon as we can, I get the feeling that if we tarry too long, one of the Reformers will realize where we went."

"You're paranoid."

"I’m not paranoid; I’m just cautious. Let’s get this finished."

"What’s your hurry? We have plenty of time. This little Anti-Scrying device will make sure of that."

"Whatever, lets just get this done and go home. What’s the plan?"

"Well, the human and Vegeta are bonded. She was screwing him last night, and then she was crying, so I figure she's gonna be too tired to give much of a struggle, and no one's there to protect her. We kidnap her, and make Vegeta come after her. He won't tell anyone else, 'cause he's too much of a self-reliant asshole. He comes in to save her, and we poison him while he's trying to see her."

"Sounds good, I guess. But where should we do this, and how, exactly."

"I think we might as well do it here. As for the details…."

 

"What are you planning, boys?" The astral mage asked her ship. Kataiya 1, of course, responded only with the usually humming made by whirring machines and the ventilation system. Their auras had taken on a wicked glint, they were preparing for action. If only she could get there in time…. They didn't need an enraged Saiyajin wrecking havoc on what was left of there species, once was enough. Of course, she knew what motivated them. They blamed the Saiyajin no Ouji for the destruction of their planet. She used to, too… until she saw his aura. He'd destroyed because he was told to, and knew nothing else. He hadn't WANTED to hurt them, he had merely BELIEVED he'd wanted to. Frieza was the evil one, and the old tyrant was dead.

Of course, if those brats had seen the same thing she had in the prince's aura, they were in trouble. Vegeta would not take kindly to the threatening of his mate, of that she was certain. And the girl was an untrained magick-user, with strong empathic abilities. She, too, could be dangerous. As could whoever the hell had been looking for her. She'd been sloppy, and he'd almost sensed her. She'd thought that, with the only magi on the planet being weak, none would be able to sense her. Whoever had wasn't a magick-user, but was familiar with the astral realm. She'd have to be more careful.

But why had her heart sped up when she sensed him? Why had she felt the need to show herself to him? It didn’t make any sense.

 

Bulma peeled open her sore, crusty eyes slowly, and immediately wished she hadn’t. The sun was shining brightly through the open drapes. It didn’t seem right, that it should be so bright and cheery outside when inside she felt like dying. She wanted to go back to sleep, but sleep hadn’t had that therapeutic effect of the last few weeks. No, sleep had just kept her mind from obsessing over her pain, it hadn’t soothed her any. She lay there, letting her eyes adjust. The room was cold, over-conditioned against the heat of the sun. She didn’t want to get up. But if she stayed there, she’d just start feeling sad again. She had to get a hold of herself! But Vegeta…oh how she missed him. But she hated him, didn’t she? After the way he’d treated her? After he’d been so cruel, after he’d used her and left her so many times.

No. She couldn’t hate him. Did that mean she loved him? She wasn’t sure. Was Vegeta even okay? He’d looked…unwell…last night. Paler, thinner. The way he’d clutched her could almost be described as desperate. But that wasn’t true, he didn’t need her, he didn’t even want her, he’d left her. Why was she so worried if he got a little ill? Why did she feel the need to find him and comfort him, when she didn’t even know what was wrong and HE was the one who’d abandoned her.

Questions. So many of them. She’d been asking herself them for days.

She’d kept her mental wall up, enhanced it even. She didn’t know what Vegeta was doing, and wouldn’t allow herself to find out. She had more pride than that. Her parents had called… Raoul had called it off, for some unknown reason. He had said that he "had found what he had hoped to gain with the marriage already." Whatever that meant. He’d sounded eerie, but had told her to meet him for lunch today.

What time was it? 11:37. She was going to be late. Strangely enough, she didn’t really care. Still, he was a nice man, and maybe he could be her rebound guy after Vegeta. Just someone to lean on until she got her confidence back.

 

She called a taxi, not knowing her way around South Capital well enough to know where the Chestnut Tree Café was. The driver had given her an odd look, and took her there. The closer she got, the more apprehensive she was. This looked like a bad neighborhood. Maybe they would go past it? No… the Café was right in the middle. But she swallowed her apprehension, and went in. He was in the corner. The place smelled of cheap alcohol, sweaty bodies, and dirt. It thoroughly disgusted her. Why would a refined man like him be here?

"Hi, Raoul. You wanted to talk?" She took the seat he offered, damning her dress to the incinerator.

"Hello Bulma."

"What did you want to talk about? Why are you even in South Capital?"

"Ah well… I wanted to introduce you to someone." Another man, this one looking tall and threatening, stepped towards the table. "I would like you to meet my friend Jack."

"Ummm… Hello." Drinks were served. Not wanting to appear rude, she sipped the…whatever it was. It tasted like cheap gin. Two minutes later, she was asleep.

 

"Uuhhhggggghhhh…"

"Hello, Ms. Briefs. I’m sorry we had to drug you, but don’t worry, no harm will come to you. As soon as we get what we want, we’ll release the binding spell and leave."

Bulma rubbed a shaky hand over her face, trying to wake up. She made sure to keep her mental shields up; the last thing she needed was Vegeta coming here and making fun of her physical weakness. Slowly, reality returned. She was sitting on some nice cushions, on the floor of a big dirty building. The spot where they had placed her had been swept clean. And she was surrounded by translucent blue-black light that didn’t let her move beyond its luminescence.

She felt like a dog in a kennel. She wasn’t happy.

"Raoul? Where are you? And what is this damn LIGHT!?" she said as she tried to stand, and was unable to do so because the light behaved as a wall would.

The other one, "Jack," spoke up. "Oh, that’s just so you don’t run away. Don’t worry, once we get what we want, we’ll let you go. Beyond REALLY bad romantic decisions, you’ve got nothing wrong with you."

"What do you WANT?!? Money? Technology? Company secrets? What?!"

"Prince Vegeta."

The answer, so clipped, so calm, caused such a look of horror to appear on the blue-eyed human’s face. "Wh-Why!?" The word was forced from her throat – what did they want with Vegeta?

"Revenge. Vegeta destroyed our planet. A few of us escaped, and Vegeta *let* us, laughing the entire time, as if he didn’t think we could *survive.*" Jack cut himself off, realizing that he was beginning to rant over the injustices of life in front of the bait.

"Wait a minute…your *planet*?"

"Ah, well, might as well let you know…please understand we have nothing against you, we just want the Prince dead. No one else needs to be killed by that psychotic bastard." The two aliens sank into silence, with nothing else to say. Then, the two human males before her were no longer human. There was no pretty twisting lights or slow fade as in the movies; one minute they were human, the next, alien. They were tall, lithe, and humanoid. Pale blue-green skin, bluer on "Jack" than on "Raoul," was covered by loose, dusky, blue-black cloth. Ears came to a delicate point, and the aliens had short black claws on their fingertips. "Raoul" had pale, blue-white hair, tied back in a plait, while "Jack" had shorter, chin-length hair of a yellow-gold hue. They looked almost like thin Namekuseijin with hair and no pink patches.

"Allow us to introduce ourselves," said "Raoul," "I am Laki of Smaragd, of New Krischtylsei." He gave a little bow, and shot a look at his companion, who promptly gave a curt bow and a name.

"Khal, of Achat."

"Why…why wait this long to hurt Vegeta? Why now? He’s changed…he’s still a ruthless bastard, but he’s not *that* evil anymore. Why go after him now?"

"I’m sorry Ms. Briefs, but your judgment is clouded. He always has and always will be a homicidal asshole that likes hearing other people scream. As for your other question, we waited this long because before now we were too few, too weak, and too frightened to seek revenge. Now we have a planet, a population, and a number of strong mages. NOW, we can destroy Prince Vegeta." Laki’s voice rose in intensity with every word while his volume remained constant. There was a look of self-righteousness in his eyes; he believed that what he was doing would benefit the universe. He wasn’t evil, or malicious, or even self-serving. He was going to kill her mate because he felt it was the just thing to do. And she could do nothing about it.

 

Perhaps there *was* something she could do about it. Her captors had assumed that Vegeta would learn of her capture, and were becoming increasingly dismayed at his absenteeism. And she had finally gleaned enough information from Laki and Khal to discover why.

The bond was what had allowed her to hear Vegeta’s thoughts, and for Vegeta to hear hers¾ when she let him. That was the crux of the issue. She was able to shield her thoughts from the world, including Vegeta. The drug they had put in the drink had interfered temporarily, and had given them the time they needed to capture her. But once the narcotic wore off, they had expected Vegeta to come running. ‘Hmmph. Vegeta doesn’t care one way or another….’ She told herself he didn’t care, that she was only defending him because he might want her around as a good lay, but she knew better. The reason he wasn’t here was because she had hurt him. She still didn’t know how, but she was getting an idea. "Bonds" were mental connections formed between two people who cared for each other. Or at least, they were supposed to be. She doubted Vegeta cared as much for her as the Khrischtyljin had assumed. Then again, she had begun to doubt the intelligence of the pair. They had also let slip that bonded mates are together forever, and that one could never block the other from knowing his or her every thought. But Bulma could easily block Vegeta, so they must be wrong.

Which lead her to her plan, if it could be called a plan. She would simply keep Vegeta out. She could only hope the two would eventually go away. Khal and Laki were friends, but they were very different. Khal looked at her as if she was a slab of meat, his eyes always so cold and appraising. Laki was pleasant enough, with an open expression on his face and joy in his eyes. She almost liked Laki, he was kind, polite, and considerate. Usually.

"Khal, where is the Prince?"

"Scouter says he’s still out in the forest." He’d been "out in the forest" for most of the day, without moving.

"Damn. I mean, darn. Why hasn’t he arrived yet?"

"Are you sure he’s bonded, too?"

"The Prince’s aura displayed all the signs. He is bonded." Laki still retained the slight British accent and proper grammar that he had displayed as Raoul. And they continue to speak in Standard. Laki, who was quite the gadget-geek, had explained that they had been unable to afford a more advanced sublim machine. So, until they re-sublimed themselves with their native tongue, they had to speak in Standard.

"What do *I* have to do with Vegeta’s capture? Why do you expect him to save me? You believe him to be a self-centered asshole, so why would he bother with me?" As usual, Laki spoke, while Khal contemplated the cosmos and checked on Vegeta’s position every 5 minutes or so.

"The Prince values you, and if he believes you to be in danger…." At a sharp glance from Khal, Laki trailed off. Something had just been communicated over her head. Time to move on to another question….

"Why do you always call Vegeta ‘he’ or ‘the Prince?’ Except when you’re mad, you never call him by name." There was a pause, and then Khal spoke.

"If you’re entire race was decimated by one person, how would you speak of him?"

She could not think of a response

 

Pain. Unimaginable pain. It felt as if the hair was being pulled out of her lungs by a vacuum and not replaced, as if her mind was being ripped bloody by sharp talons. She was in a haze of pain. There was something that could help her, she knew it. Where was it? What was it? It was over there, that way, if only she could reach it. If she could just touch it, the pain would disappear. But something was in her way. What was it? Light, some kind of light. It was keeping her confined. She pushed against it, but it wouldn’t move. Oh, the agony! The pain was increased by the knowledge of the cure; it tormented her, knowing she shouldn’t be in this pain, knowing how to end it, and not being able to. She clawed at the light, that damnable light that was causing her so much pain. Her fingernails bent backwards, some ripped, but the pain was not registering. She tried to scratch away the light, but now her fingers were sticky and red; she didn’t feel it, she just wanted to get to that which would relieve the pain. Dimly she heard screaming, crying, frantic animalistic noises. Moments before she passed into unconsciousness, she realized the sounds were her own.

* * * * *


Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 3 - to come