Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z or its characters, and am merely borrowing them for this Alternate Universe story which begins during episode 71, "The End of Vegeta". This is a Bulma/Vegeta story. The rating is NC-17 for some nice, romantic love-making. There are also, however, some references to torture and abuse in Vegeta’s childhood, but they are extremely vague. If you are under 17 or would prefer not to read anything with sexual situations, please do not go any further. Please send comments/criticisms to queensaiyajin@aol.com. I love feedback of any kind!

"Vegeta, wake up…"

Her voice startled him from a dreamless sleep, and he opened his eyes to find her face barely an inch from his. She smiled at him, kissing him on the lips. "Come on, we’re about to land. You only dozed for about ten minutes, but you were out cold."

He hugged her to him, disappointed that she had somehow managed to put her clothes back on. "You’re a dangerous woman," he grumbled.

"Oh really?" she asked, pursing her lips. "And why is that?"

"First you electrocute me, then you seduce me with your wild sexual fantasies—"

"Who told you to read my mind?" she replied coyly.

"Then you totally exhaust me to the point where I don’t even think I can walk straight—"

"Fine, next time you can just take your own space pod," she said in mock hurt.

"I’m serious, woman. I’m in pain."

"Poor baby," she cooed, kissing him deeply.

"But it was the best damn flight I’ve ever had in one of these things," he breathed, wanting her again. "I don’t suppose we could orbit a couple of times before---"

Just then the onboard guidance system began flashing a warning of their impending descent. He took a deep breath, willing himself control.

"Pulling up your pants might help," she suggested, then giggled as he realized that his desire for her was literally out in the open. He remedied the situation immediately, knowing that his face had flushed hot with his embarrassment. It wouldn’t have been the best way to greet the planet’s natives.

"Wicked woman," he murmured again as she settled against him for the landing.

"So, how was your trip, Vegeta? A little cramped?"

Vegeta scowled at the Tsiru-jin, wishing he could kill him sooner rather than later. "Unfortunately, this girl wouldn’t be able to control her own spaceship if it were on auto-pilot," he responded.

Frieza laughed. "Yes, beauty and brains never do come in one package."

Vegeta could feel Bulma seething, and hear her voice in his mind. I could take that pod apart and put it back together in an hour, and you damn well know it, you jerk!

Vegeta suppressed a smile. Just keeping up appearances, my love.

The planet was a far cry from Namek, with blue skies and green foliage not very different from Earth’s. Vegeta could see the joy in Rossdark’s eyes as he stepped from his own pod, surveying the world he’d feared never to see again. He couldn’t help but wonder if he would feel that way setting foot on Vegeta-sei, once it had been wished back. His early childhood seemed two lifetimes away, and in truth, it was…

"How does this damn thing work?" Frieza was studying the dragon radar, confused by the signal. "Vegeta, do you have any idea?"

Bulma looked at him with her arms folded, as if to say Go ahead, try and figure it out. He glanced at the screen, not really sure what the signals meant, then turned to Bulma. "Woman, did your master ever teach you how to read his device?"

She heaved a sigh and looked at the screen. "There’s one five miles west, and another 100 miles due east."

Frieza looked at her suspiciously, but said nothing.

"Lord Frieza," Rossdark piped in. "If I might suggest, sir, the closer one is in the wilderness, while the farther is in the middle of a large village. Perhaps I should go with the party that heads to the village so that I can be of service as a guide."

"Fine. Vegeta, you go with Rossdark to the Village. Maybe the locals can be ‘persuaded’ into giving up some information as to the location of the other five dragonballs." He paused, glancing at Bulma. "I’ll hold on to the Dragon Radar. Maybe your slave girl should come with me—just in case I have trouble reading this thing."

Vegeta knew Frieza was baiting him, but he refused to bite. "I’m sure you’ll have no trouble yourself, Lord Frieza," he said with perfect lack of emotion.

Frieza chose not to pursue the matter, to Vegeta’s surprise. "I want to see you back here within twenty four hours. And you’d better have something good to report."

With that he left them, and Vegeta breathed more easily.

"Ugh. That guy gives me the creeps," Bulma commented.

"That makes two of us," Vegeta said absently. "Now let’s get that dragonball."

"It won’t be hard to locate, ouji-sami," Rossdark told him with a sly twinkle in his eyes.

"You know where it is?" Bulma asked.

The alien nodded confidently. "Right in my house."

They’d flown to a quaint village that lay on the outskirts of a larger city. Korwal-sei was in the early stages of industrialization, but the majority of the people seemed to live an agrarian lifestyle. Rossdark had intimated during the flight that his father had found the dragonball years ago, and that had spurred his own interest in the legends. He knew that his son would have already begun the search for the others. But when Bulma had estimated the location, Rossdark had known it was their own dragonball she had detected.

"That’s why I suggested I look for this one," he told Vegeta and Bulma as they flew.

"You took a big chance," Bulma told him, resting her head against Vegeta’s shoulder as he carried her in his arms. "What if Frieza had decided to go with you?"

Vegeta laughed. "That lazy bastard won’t do a thing he can get someone else to do for him," he told her. "The only reason he came down to this planet is because he doesn’t trust me."

"I trust you, ouji-sama," Rossdark told him as they touched down in front of a small house. "You’ve brought me back to my children. That’s why I’ll help you until you find all the dragonballs. Then all I want is to wish back my wife. The rest of the wishes are yours to do with as you please."

Vegeta nodded silently to the man, and Bulma knew that he was too unaccustomed to kind words to know how to respond. They watched as two children came running from the house, a boy about nine years old, and a girl no more than six. "Poppa! Poppa!"

The pair ran into their father’s arms, and Rossdark hugged them tightly, his eyes filled with tears. Bulma wanted to cry for him, and as she glanced at Vegeta she knew that he too was touched. He glanced at her abdomen, then looked into her eyes, and she knew that he was thinking of their own child that would be here in a matter of months. According to the rules of this dragon, they would have to stay here for a year. "It’s a nice place to have a baby," she said softly, taking his hand. He squeezed it in return, the most affection he would allow himself in public.

"Where’s Momma?" The boy was asking, though there was fear in his eyes.

Rossdark chose his words carefully. "We’ll see her as soon as we have all the dragonballs."

The boy’s face darkened as he understood the meaning of that, while the little girl just continued to chat away. "These are my children, Pandelis and Pota," he told his companions, wiping the tears from his face. "Children, these are my friends, Prince Vegeta, and his wife."

Bulma’s face grew crimson at his choice of words, but Vegeta showed no expression whatsoever. She supposed that was an appropriate introduction for his children, especially since they would probably soon know that she was carrying a child. The young man bowed to them, but Pota walked up to Vegeta with wide eyes.

"You’re a Prince?" she asked in astonishment, just as any little girl might, knowing only of Princes from Fairy Tales.

Vegeta seemed completely at a loss for words, but nodded, a slight smile in his eyes. He seemed intrigued by the whole family scene. He’d probably never thought of children as anything but a nuisance.

"So does that make you a Princess?" she asked Bulma.

It was Bulma who was taken aback now. "Well, uh—"

"Yes, it does," Vegeta told her with a smile. She turned to him in surprise, and the tender look he gave her made her blush.

"Wow, I never met a Prince and Princess before," Pota said.

"Excuse her, ouji-sama," Rossdark apologized. "She’s just excited."

"There’s nothing to excuse," Vegeta told him graciously.

"Come. Pota, why don’t you show the Prince and Princess our home?"

The little girl nodded eagerly, and Bulma couldn’t suppress a smile as Pota reached for Vegeta’s hand to lead him inside.

I think she’s got a crush on you, she teased him. Not that I blame her…

They were led into a comfortable living room, where an older man and woman, most likely Rossdark’s parents, ran out to meet him. Vegeta looked on uncomfortably as Rossdark accepted their embraces, in a show of emotion that was literally alien to him. Introductions made, Rossdark turned to his son. "All right, now, Pandelis, where is the dragonball?"

The boy ran to a box hidden under the floorboards and handed the treasure to his father. It was larger than the Earth’s dragonballs, but of similar design. Bulma couldn’t help but think of Goku as she saw it had four stars.

To the surprise of his son, Rossdark presented the dragonball to Vegeta. "Here you are, ouji-sama. You are better able to protect it than I."

Vegeta nodded his thanks, and turned to Bulma. "Encapsulate this now, before Frieza knows we have it."

She hesitated. Here? In front of all these people?

She nodded, finding an empty capsule in her bag, and capturing the dragonball within. The Korwal-sei-jin all opened their eyes wide in surprise at the technology that must have looked like magic to them. Only Rossdark, who’d seen the sophistication of Frieza’s ship, nodded in appreciation. "That’s fabulous. Your invention, my lady?"

"Yup." She held up the capsule. "It’s right in here. And the dragon radar will absolutely not be able to detect it."

"The Princess is really smart!" Pota piped in.

Vegeta laughed. "Yes, she is."

There were still over twenty hours before they had to rendezvous with Frieza, and Rossdark showed them to guest quarters while his mother prepared a big welcome meal. They showered, changing into fresh clothes that Bulma enlarged from one of her capsules. The little girl then showed Bulma where she could wash out their flight suits, while Vegeta sat down with the men to discuss the other dragonballs.

"They can’t be found simply," Rossdark’s father was explaining as she sat down beside Vegeta at the round dinner table. "The Namek, Payson, is guardian of five of the balls. One must obtain the first two, as a test of perseverance, and then seek him out for permission to use the others. Only he can authorize their use."

"Frieza is more powerful than you can imagine," Vegeta told the older man. "He could force the Namek to hand them over."

"Not if he doesn’t have two first," Rossdark said. "He can only make a wish with all seven anyway."

"And where do we find this Payson?" Vegeta asked.

"He lives on the other side of the planet, on a desolate continent within the polar ice cap. I could lead you there in the space pods." Rossdark’s statement seemed to unnerve his family, who had obviously thought he was home for good. He turned to his children. "It’s the only way to bring Momma back."

"So all we have to do is get Frieza’s dragonball and then pay a visit to Payson," Bulma said, getting looks for her oversimplification.

"Is that all?" Vegeta said with thinly veiled sarcasm.

"He’ll never give it up willingly," Rossdark commented. "We’ll have to wait until he hides it somewhere, then distract him and take it."

"And get to the other side of the planet before he realizes it’s gone?" Vegeta asked dubiously.

"There may just be a way," Bulma murmured, the wheels beginning to turn in her head. "The dragon radar isn’t picking up the five dragon balls because they’re too far away. But I can tweak the radar so it gives off a false signal, sending him on a wild goose chase."

"And if he sends us instead?" Vegeta asked.

"You go with him. I’ll stay behind and look for the dragonball. He’ll probably leave it in his space pod or bury it nearby."

"Absolutely not," Vegeta told her sharply. "I will not leave you alone."

"You may not have a choice, Vegeta. We’re going to have to just play it by ear, and take our first opportunity to grab it."

I will not leave you alone! he screamed in her mind.

Vegeta, if Frieza wanted to kill me, you wouldn’t be able to stop him…

He glared at her in anger, and she cursed herself for not thinking before she…thought. To remind him of his inability to protect her was the worst thing she could have done.

"She’s right, ouji-sama." Rossdark put in, unaware of their silent argument. "First things first. Let’s see what Frieza comes up with. Perhaps he will not locate the dragonball at all. But at least, he can never find the one we possess."

Bulma knew Vegeta was uncomfortable with her plan, to say the very least, but damn it, he didn’t have a better one, did he? They spent the next few hours quietly, enjoying the food and hospitality of Rossdark and his family, and resting while they still could. By nightfall, there were still twelve hours left before their rendezvous, and Rossdark suggested they take advantage of it. "You should rest, ouji-sama. You will need your strength. As for myself, I would like to spend a quiet night with my children before I must go off again."

Alone in their private room, Bulma slipped into a nightgown, placing the utility belt with her satchel of capsules right by her pillow. Vegeta had stripped down to his underwear, and was silently watching the night sky through the large windows, as if he could not give up his vigilance.

"Come to bed, Vegeta," she told him after a few minutes. "You need some sleep." The truth was that she was afraid of what would happen tomorrow. She needed to be close to him, to hold him. But he’d been distant to her ever since their disagreement over her part in the plot against Frieza, and had closed himself off to her.

It hurt. She wanted to feel his thoughts intermingled with hers. To wrap her spirit around his, to give him comfort and peace as she knew only she could do.

"Vegeta, please talk to me." He turned to her without meeting her eyes, and she thought she would go mad if he kept this up. "Are you still angry at me?"

He breathed deeply, sitting on the bed. "I’m not angry, woman. I simply will not let you do it."

Her normal reaction would have been to scream at him, berate him for telling her what she could and could not do. But it was more than mere machismo, or a desire to control her, that lay behind his stubbornness, and she knew that.

He was scared, but could not admit it—afraid that he would be unable to

protect her, and their unborn child, from Frieza.

"Vegeta—I just want to help. I can’t just stand by—"

"Listen to me, woman," he said, looking finally into her eyes, revealing the hurt in his own. "Perhaps you think I’m incapable of protecting you from Frieza, but I’ll be damned if I will let you out of my sight while he still lives."

"Vegeta, I never said that—" she began.

"You didn’t have to," he responded bitterly. "Your thoughts were loud and clear."

"Damn it, Vegeta, are you going to hold me responsible for every stray thought that comes into my mind? That’s not fair! Yes, I’m scared, for myself, for the baby, and most of all for you! I’m scared shitless that he’ll kill you, and I’ll lose you forever! But that doesn’t mean I don’t believe in you, and trust you to do everything you can to protect us!"

"Everything I can do, may still not be enough," he replied grimly.

"It’s enough for me," she told him with finality. Putting her hand up to his cheek, she sighed deeply as his face finally softened towards her. "I’m only human, Vegeta. We don’t always think rationally. I’ve got millions of irrational thoughts—"

"I know. I’ve seen them," he said with a tinge of amusement in his eyes.

He was teasing her. That was a good sign. "Please don’t shut me out just because I’m afraid," she said softly. "I need you. I need to feel your spirit inside of me. It’s the only thing that gives me strength to go on."

He looked at her for a long moment. "Bulma," he said finally, his voice broken. "You…are my strength." Four simple words, but they conveyed all the feeling he could not otherwise express. He pulled her into his arms, kissing her deeply, as he opened up the floodgates of his mind to her once more. His fear of losing her, his doubts about his ability to defend her from Frieza, his shame at his own lack of power, washed over her as he held her in his embrace. His pride had been shattered piece by piece, as the destiny he’d always thought was his became more and more elusive. He was the Prince of all Saiyans, yet he was helpless against the being who had destroyed his entire race, and now threatened to take from him the only happiness he had ever known. If I cannot defend my own wife and unborn child, I’m unworthy to be the Prince of all Saiyans… he thought in despair.

You can. And you will. I have faith in you. And I love you! With all her might she pushed her mind into his, willing him to feel all the love that she had for him. Every doubt she reassured, every question she answered, every fear she assuaged, until peace and contentment enveloped his being. And as his mind relaxed, she bid his body to follow, rubbing his tense muscles, caressing the pain from his wounds. He closed his eyes as sleep began to descend on him, but opened them long enough to gaze into hers. "My Princess…" he whispered. She smiled as he fell into a much-needed sleep, then snuggled beside him.

A knock at the door awoke them from their slumber. Without being told to, Pota snuck into the room and climbed up on the bed. "Prince Vegeta! Princess Bulma! Poppa says it’s time to get up!"

Bulma grinned as Vegeta opened one eye and looked at the little girl smiling sweetly in his face. "Poppa told me to bring you your flight suits. They’re over there," she said, pointing to the edge of the bed.

"Thank you, Pota," Bulma told her. "Tell your Poppa we’ll be down in a few minutes."

"Okay, Princess." She looked at Vegeta, whose face was a mixture of sleepy annoyance and amusement. "Is there anything else I can do for you, ouji-sama?" she asked, mimicking the term of respect she’d heard her father use.

"No—thank you," he said awkwardly. The little girl scampered off closing the door behind her.

"I told you she likes you," she teased, bending down and kissing him on the lips.

"She’s just never seen a prince and princess before," he yawned.

"Princess. That sounds so weird," she giggled.

"That is, technically, your title. I am a prince, and you are my wife."

She blushed again at the use of the word ‘wife’. "Is that…what you consider me?" she asked shyly.

"What else are you, then, woman?" he asked, not understanding. "You are my mate. By Saiyan Law and Tradition. What would have been required on Earth for me to claim you as my own?"

She had to force herself to remember that he truly didn’t know these things. "Well, usually there’s a ceremony, and wedding rings, and a license—"

"That’s ludicrous. You make it sound like some kind of a treaty—" He stopped as he realized that the things she spoke of meant something to her. "Do you think any of these things could bind us more closely or more permanently than what we have?"

She smiled and shook her head. The answer was obvious.

"As far as I am concerned, you are mine and I am yours for all time. But when Earth is restored, if it would really mean so much to you, I suppose we could do all those ridiculous things," he offered.

She kissed him, his willingness to please her meaning more than any of those formalities. "It’s just good to know where I stand," she sighed, snuggling against him one last time before they had to get out of bed.

"Foolish woman, you should already have known," he chided her, then lifted her chin to face him. "Even that child knew. You are my Princess. And someday, when I take my rightful place as King, you will be my Queen. And I will worship you and lay riches at your feet, just as you deserve."

All I need is you, she thought as he brought his lips to hers.

Woman, I am already yours. He kissed her once more, as the strength they had given each other prepared them to face whatever lay ahead.

Vegeta reached out with his senses but found no sign of Frieza as they sped towards the meeting place they had prearranged. In his arms Bulma rested against him, and he kissed her cheek softly, knowing such displays of affection would once more be taboo as soon as they were in Frieza’s company. He glanced at their companion, a new man since they had brought him back to his world and his people. He thought of the little girl again and smiled inside. Perhaps he and Bulma would have a daughter…or a son whom he could train to be a warrior. At this point, it didn’t matter to him whether the brat was a boy or a girl. As long as he and his woman could live peacefully, without fear…

She had assuaged his fears, and given him new confidence. Even now, he felt her thoughts drifting in and out of his, her presence a comforting reminder that he was not alone. He’d been stubborn and foolish to shut her out in anger. He would not make the same mistake again. He had heard stories of the bond between a Saiyan and his mate, and how the severing of that bond, by death or by the sheer will of one partner, could be devastating, even fatal. Each time he’d tried to distance himself from Bulma, he’d found it to be true. The loss of her would leave a void in his soul that could never be filled by anything but her essence. He was learning the hard way that the enforced solitude of a lifetime was gone forever. It was quite simple, really. With her, he felt invulnerable. Without her, he was utterly incomplete.

A dark presence invaded his peace and he knew at once that Frieza awaited them below. They set down nearby, and he looked at the Tsiru-jin expectantly.

"Did you find it?" he asked, and Frieza smiled greedily as his dream of immortality loomed closer.

"Yes. It’s back at the pod. And you? What success do you have to report?"

Vegeta’s face was emotionless as he repeated the practiced response. "We couldn’t find it. And there was no one there who had a clue what we were talking about."

Frieza frowned. "Twenty-four hours and you come back completely empty-handed? I find that hard to believe. You’re much too resourceful for that, Vegeta."

"You can’t get blood from a stone," Vegeta responded blandly. "It was a primitive, agrarian town. No one knows anything about the dragonballs. We went from house to house and found nothing."

"And how many did you kill to show them you mean business?" Frieza challenged, annoyed at Vegeta’s lack of results.

"At least a dozen," he replied without missing a beat. It sounded good, even if it was utterly false. How would Frieza ever know?

"Maybe I should go there myself with the dragon radar," he said, pulling it out.

Vegeta heard Bulma cry, No! You can’t let him! But he already knew that. The thought of that monster invading the peaceful little village was abhorrent to him. "It wouldn’t do any good, Frieza. We already gained their confidence by bringing along one of their own race. There was nothing for them to tell. I suggest we just look for the others—"

"This fucking radar doesn’t show a thing," Frieza complained, looking at the screen. "Not even the one you went looking for. It just disappeared."

"Let me look at it," Bulma offered to all of their surprise, and Vegeta’s alarm, then added as an after thought, "Lord Frieza."

Frieza’s eyes opened wide in curiosity, but he placed the device in Bulma’s open hand. She fidgeted with it for a few moments, then smiled. "There," she told the Tsiru-jin, with a sweet smile. "It’s showing two now. Twenty miles southeast."

"My, my, you are a helpful little thing," he said as she handed the radar back to him. His eyes roved over her body as she stepped away, and Vegeta fought to suppress the rage. He snorted at Vegeta. "I suppose I should handle this one myself," he said, then smiled slyly. "No, on second thought, Vegeta, you come along."

Vegeta’s heart began to pound as things started to go precisely as he had feared they might.

"All right," he agreed, then turned to Bulma. "Woman, you—"

"Leave her with Rossdark, Vegeta," Frieza said, more than a suggestion. "It’s been a long time since we’ve spent some ‘quality time’ alone together."

"I would rather—" he began in a hoarse voice.

"You can’t tell me you don’t trust Rossdark with her? Isn’t he the one you left as guard outside your door?" Frieza’s knowing tone was making his skin crawl. What the fuck was this lizard up to? Woman, I told you…

He said nothing as he let Frieza lead him away. But the knot in the pit of his stomach told him that the moment he’d dreaded was at hand.

Bulma watched him go, her heart pounding with fear. "Oh gods, be careful, Vegeta," she whispered.

Rossdark set down beside her. "Do you think he suspects something, my lady?"

"I don’t know," she said, trying to shake her fear. "But we’ve got a job to do."

They hurried to the space pod that had carried Frieza, and with a ki blast Rossdark opened the hatch. Bulma crouched inside, looking until she had found it. "There it is!" she said in delight. "The second dragonball!" She quickly encapsulated it, placing it safely with the first. "Okay. We’re good to go."

"Then let’s get to the Namek," he said.

"No. Not without Vegeta," she told him. "I have a bad feeling. I think Frieza knows something’s going on. I’m not going halfway around the planet ‘til I know he’s all right."

"But my lady, the Prince would want us to summon the dragon. You know what his wishes would be."

"No," she said, Vegeta’s own feeling of impending doom settling over her. "I just have a feeling. He’s going to need help."

"Perhaps Frieza just didn’t trust him not to take the dragonball for himself."

She shook her head knowingly, reaching out with her mind and feeling Vegeta’s tension grow. She turned to Rossdark. "Please, go help him."

His eyes opened wide. "What could I possibly do? The Prince is far stronger than I. And if he and Lord Frieza are already in combat, he would consider it a great affront for anyone to come to his aid."

"You know him well," Bulma murmured.

"Besides, I am sworn on my life to protect you. Should the worst happen, and should Frieza come back for you, it would be my duty—"

"I know!" Bulma said, looking into his eyes. "But trust me, Vegeta will need you. I don’t know how I know, but I do. Please. I’m begging you."

Rossdark hesitated, but her certainty was compelling. "Be careful, my lady," he said, and sped off in the direction that the others had gone.

Bulma set her electrical shield bracelet to the "on" position. It might not be the best. But it was all she had.

They set down on the ground in the precise spot where the dragon radar indicated the dragonballs to be.

They found nothing.

"They must be buried," Vegeta suggested, his anxiety growing as he reached out with his thoughts to touch Bulma. They’d found the dragonball! But she was afraid, so afraid…

His concentration was cut short as Frieza’s ki blast made a crater below them. "Hmm. Nothing there. But your radar still says there is."

"Maybe it’s malfunctioning," he proposed, wanting to get back to his woman.

"Or maybe your little girlfriend sent me on a wild goose chase!" Frieza spat, looking him directly in the eye.

"She’s my pleasure slave, and I don’t think she has enough brains to do such a thing," he said blandly, struggling to mask his fear.

"You’re lying, Vegeta," Frieza said in disgust. "And you’ve been lying all along. I know that little whore means more to you than that. These sickeningly weak emotions are unbecoming to you, my little prince, and you wear your heart on your sleeve."

"You mistake lust for affection," Vegeta shot back at him. "I would think you would know the difference."

"Oh, I do, you foolish boy. Just as I know the scent of a female gestating a half-Saiyan brat!"

At this, Vegeta lost all ability to mask his emotions, as protectiveness and indignation raged into blind fury.

"Oh, did you think I didn’t know?" Frieza taunted him. "You surprise me, Vegeta. I would have thought you too proud to mate with weakling trash."

"She’s no threat to you, Frieza!" he growled.

"Do you mean to say that she isn’t right now trying to steal the other dragonball?"

"You can take all the fucking dragonballs!" he roared, the need to disguise his rage now gone. "I’ll help you gather them myself! Just leave her out of this!"

"It’s you who’ve brought her into this," Frieza countered, playing on the guilt that had already festered inside him. "You should have left her to die on Namek, you fool. You could have had riches and power and as many whores as you liked. But instead you chose to betray me once more. For that Vegeta, you and your little pregnant whore will die."

The fury that Vegeta had masked for weeks now rose to the surface as he rushed at Frieza in a frenzy of fists, pounding away at the abomination before him. He struck at lightning speed, yet Frieza dodged every blow, an evil smirk of satisfaction on his face. Even the punches that made contact seemed but to graze him, but Vegeta fought on in a desperate attempt to keep him from the only thing that had ever truly mattered to him in his life.

But as Frieza grew bored, he extended his hand towards Vegeta for an attack the Saiyan knew too well. His only thought before the blast hit was a wild plea to her in his mind. Bulma! Go! Get away!

Then everything went black.

Vegeta’s voiced screamed out in her mind, then fell silent. Bulma doubled over, as the sudden loss of his essence seemed to rob her of her strength. She fell to the ground, crying out his name in vain. She reached out with her thoughts…

…and there it was. Ever so faint, but present.

He was alive.

Her tears of anguish gave way to tears of relief. But he was weak. Or hurt.

He needed her.

Without hesitation she drew out the capsule that contained her air car, expanding it to full size and jumping in. He would be furious with her for this, and she knew it. He had implored her to run away. But her heart wouldn’t let her. No matter that she would be powerless to do anything. But if this was the end, they would go down fighting.

They would go down together.

She sped away in the direction where she’d sent them on their false chase, her heart in her throat as she tried over and over to call him through their bond…

Suddenly, her air car stopped short, the forward momentum throwing her into the controls. It didn’t take long for her to realize why. The shrill laughter of Frieza alerted her to his presence even before his hot, rank breath at her neck made her shiver in disgust.

A deathly cold hand gripped her neck, pausing only momentarily as the electrical shock of her shield jarred him. "You’re simply full of surprises, aren’t you?" he said, holding her up before him as he let her vehicle crash to the ground.

"What…have you done…to Vegeta?!" she cried, gasping for air.

"I’m just teaching him another lesson about what happens to those who betray me," he said with a maniacal grin. "And, unfortunately for you, your death will be part of that lesson."

She struggled to get away as he set down on the ground, but even as he loosened his grip on her throat to allow her to breathe, his tail writhed around her waist. "Please don’t," she sobbed as she felt the pressure on her abdomen. Her body could take it, but the delicate life in her womb might not.

Frieza looked at her knowingly. "Worried about your little half-breed brat?" he said in a tone of mock compassion.

Bulma stared at him in shock. How could he know?

"Oh, I could smell the little half-monkey inside you the moment you came near me." To her horror, he reached out a cold hand to the small protrusion that was her baby. "Nothing would give me greater pleasure than to rip the little Saiyan scum out of your body and give it to your sweet Prince as a gift. But then, that would cut short my fun with you, wouldn’t it?"

"Please don’t hurt my baby," she wept, shrinking from his hand. He’d ripped away her armor as if it were paper, and was fondling her body through her flight suit as his tail held her in place.

"Hurt?" He repeated the word with as if it were a turn-on. "Hurting is half the fun. Did your Prince ever tell you about the lessons in pleasure and pain that I gave him as a child?"

Bulma glared at him, her hatred abounding for this creature that had tortured her love and turned him into the angry, raging killer that he had been. "Only pain," she assured him, her voice filled with disgust.

"Oh, that’s right. I forgot. The pleasure was all mine."

"You’re a monster!" she cried, heedless of how he would react. What did it matter? He was going to kill her anyway.

"Tell me," he said with a lewd smirk, drawing her closer with his tail, until his red lips could almost touch her face. "Did he hurt you when he took you?"

"No, you sick fuck!" she yelled. "He’s never hurt me, and he never would!"

"Good," he said with an evil glint in his eyes. "Then this will be like your first time!" With that he jerked her around so that his body was pressed against her back. His hands cupped her breasts through her garment. "Have you ever asked your prince about all his scars? They’re not all from battle, you know." With that he dug his black claw-like nails into her with such excruciating pain that she thought she would pass out. She screamed as he drew his hands down her body, ripping fabric and flesh with a trail of blood. He stopped at her thighs, shoving them apart as the tip of his tail slid between her legs.

"Nooooo!" she pleaded as he poked at her, drawing out the horrific suspense.

"Don’t worry, my pretty little thing. This won’t hurt that much. This is just foreplay."

She closed her eyes, blinded by fear and pain, her mind screaming in terror. Vegeta!!!!!

Vegeta opened his eyes to see Rossdark, who’d been frantically trying to shake him back to

consciousness. "Ouji-sama, thank the gods you’re alive."

"Where’s Bulma?!" he boomed, looking wildly around.

"She bid me to come help you. She sensed you were in trouble—"

"You fool! You left her alone? Frieza’s after her!" With that he shot into the air, still disoriented but relying on his sense of her to guide him. Her ki was erratic, fluctuating wildly as if she were in distress. Bulma! Bulma!

He was so close, yet he knew that a moment could mean her life. Suddenly, her voice was in his mind, shrieking his name, in pain, in terror… And then he could see her, trapped against Frieza, as the twisted spawn of Hell itself prepared to…to…

"AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH"

Inside him, something snapped, his mind, his sanity…his heart. All reason was gone, all caution thrown to the wind, all fear and inadequacy flushed from his being by the need to do something greater than he had ever imagined. His energy began to soar, the ground beneath him quaking as lightning crackled around him. It rose and it rose, an infinite font of energy born of the boundless love for the woman below and hatred for the creature that would destroy her. He could see Frieza release her, staring at him in fear, but still he would not check the power that surged from his being. He was on fire, aglow, a golden light bathing him in its brilliance even as his eyes seemed to burn with the love for his woman and the need to protect her.

Frieza had begun to run, and Vegeta caught him by his tail, slicing it off with a blast of ki as brilliant as a supernova. Frieza screamed in pain, falling to the ground as he lost his balance. His face was one of terror, as he sputtered, "You fucking monkey! I can’t believe you did it! You’re a—"

The words, Super Saiyan, were caught on his lips as Vegeta blew him into oblivion.

He’d imagined this moment so many times, the words he would say, gloating over his former master while providing him with the slow torturous death that befitted a monster such as Frieza.

But in the end, the end of the horror was all that mattered. And his only thought now was of his woman, as he searched for her in the dust of his battle.

"Vegeta!!!!"

He turned to her voice as she stumbled towards him, her clothes in shreds, her body bruised and bloodied. Oh gods, Bulma. He couldn’t speak, and his face was wet with tears. He ran to her, scooping her into his arms, hugging her to him and crying over her shattered form. Blood still ran from the gashes in her skin, her beautiful skin scarred now forever. As she would be scarred if—

He didn’t, she assured him, answering the question he would not have the strength to ask. She looked into his eyes. "You got here just in time," she said weakly, still in shock. "I knew you would. I knew you would."

Then he kissed her, deeply, tenderly, loving her with all that he was and all he had become because of her.

* * * * *