Chapter 2 - Music, Senzus and Soup

"Hope you're not planning to make of this a habit," Dr. Briefs said after Bulma and the stubborn Saiyan were conveniently examined and medicined. To the young woman's relief, her nose was only slightly red, despite its throbbing. A good cold compress would work wonders and tomorrow it would be like new, guaranteed Mrs. Briefs, who had returned to her normal cheerful self. The Dr. said it had been a miracle that Bulma hadn't broken a bone.

"You were very lucky, my dear," he said, with unnatural concern, "But I'm disappointed in you. Since you were a child I've always told you to never use an invention before you have tested it!"

"But dad, how'd you expect me to make a test if Vegeta never allowed us to use the chamber? I think it actually worked well, if the gravity was at 200, his usual."

"Actually, it was at 400." Came the calm response from the bed. Both father and daughter turned to look at the Saiyan.

"You said... what?" Bulma ventured.

"Are you deaf? I put it at 400," he smirked, seeing first the shock then the proud triumph in the woman's eyes, then threw the fatal blow, "or at least that was my intention. I had to stop several times to adjust that piece of junk for less or it would explode again, then it started powering down by itself! If it was at 80, it was a lot!"

At 80? Bulma fell over. If Dr. Briefs was surprised, he didn't show it.

"Well, anyway it's very impressive, boy. I'm very grateful to you, for having saved my only daughter's life."

"I don't want your gratitude. Just keep her away from me and fix that contraption of yours, so I can train tomorrow."

"Tomorrow? Impossible. It'll take at least two weeks."

"WHAT!" Vegeta sat abruptly, grimacing in pain. Bulma started a move to help, but stopped in time, remembering he would shoo her off.

Instead, she just looked questioningly at her father.

"Two weeks? Vegeta is that seriously injuried?" Mrs. Briefs asked for her.

"No, no. It's the time it'll take for me to install a sound system in the chamber. It's not easy to calculate the echo and the ressonance, so I'll find a good place for the boxes..."

Bulma fell on her back again and if Vegeta wasn't already collapsed he'd probably do the same.

His howl echoed throughout all the building:

"WHY DO I NEED A DAMN SOUND SYSTEM!"

Out there, a Capsule Corp employee that passed by was startled and dropped the heavy box he carried on his foot.

"It's obvious," said the doctor, in his usual calm tone "For gymnastics, there's nothing like some music for the rhythm!"

"YOU DARE TO CALL MY TRAINING GYMNASTICS, OLD MAN!" Vegeta started to raise his ki.

"VEGETA! Stop shouting at my father!" Bulma interjected. "He's just being nice to you, even though you don't deserve it."

"That's unbelievable! There are nothing but morons living in this place! You'll die in three years if I won't become stronger, and..."

"Oh, as if you cared," Bulma cut him off. "Stop being a hypocrite: I know you didn't kill us yet only because you need my Dad to make you stronger than Goku! You're nothing but a parasite and without our help you wouldn't even have a place to sleep! You should be grateful, instead insulting and threatening us all the time."

A heavy silence fell over the guestroom. To the old couple's shock, Vegeta just sat in silence and stared at their daughter in a strange way.

Mrs. Briefs felt that he was hurt because of Bulma's lecture and scolded her:

"Bulma! How can you say something so cruel? Vegeta's just saved your life!"

The prince, however, smirked cynically.

"You're nothing but insects to me," he said very slowly, staring at Bulma as though as there was no one else in the room, "Insects with some utility, I admit. When I have done with Kakarott and the others, I'll reward you with a quick, painless death." His stare at Bulma suggested that her death would be much less painless and quick than her parents'.

"Well, so that's all right" Dr. Briefs agreed cheerfully, like the promise of a quick death was the most usual expression of gratitude he received. "So, are you sure you don't want the system?"

"NO!" Vegeta and Bulma shrieked in a chorus. They looked surprised at each other, then exchanged glares.

Fortunately, Mrs. Briefs butted in before they started to fight again:

"Now, now, you two. Bulma, leave Vegeta alone. He's been through too

much and needs some rest. I'll cook a good soup for you, my handsome young man."

The "handsome young man" grimaced in respost. Bulma remembered one night when they had soup for dinner and Vegeta had hated it. She wasn't much fond of soup, either, at least not her mother's. It occurred to her it was the first thing she had in common with the rambunctious Saiyan.

"Soup, mom? " she said dismissively, "Vegeta's injuried, not sick!"

The proud prince, however, was determined to not owe anything else to her:

"Whatever I eat is not of your concern. Woman," he said to Bulma's mother, like she was his maid "Make that soup now."

"My pleasure, dearest," Mrs. Briefs turned to follow her husband, who seemed a little upset, most at the dismissal of his musical gift than at their guest's rude ways. Only Bulma remained in the room, standing in front of the bed, her face white with fury.

"What?" the Saiyan snorted. "The morons are already gone; what are you

waiting to leave for?"

Bulma had a lot to say to him: what she thought of his manners, his ingratitude, his way of treating her parents and an amount of other little things. Strangely, however, his remark calmed her down.

"This is my home; if I go or if I stay is not of your concern," she said, mocking his way of talking.

She expected him to become angry, like it always happened when she and her friends mocked him. The prince, however, just stared at her in the same strange way he had before, then shrugged indifferently:

"Makes no difference to me," he glanced at a chair near his bed then looked up at the ceiling. It was so fast that Bulma wouldn't have noticed were his eyes had landed at first if she wasn't looking so sharply at him. She looked puzzled: was it her imagination or had he invited her to stay with him?

"You're absolutely incomprehensible," she said, taking the seat.

He said nothing. They remained in silence for a while, Bulma lost in her own thoughts, Vegeta frustrated at the time he was wasting in that bed. This way he'd never overcome Kak...

"Kakarott!" he shouted.

"Huh?" Bulma started and fell with the chair. She stood up and angrily rubbed her sore butt:

"Damn you, Vegeta, do you have to scr..." she started, but Vegeta seized her by her dress and pulled her closer before she could finish it :

"Kakarott's magic seeds! Go to see him and get some, so I can go back to my training! Now!" he demanded.

Bulma took a few seconds to understand.

"T-the senzu beans, you mean?" the woman's blank look hardened:"Sorry but I can't."

"How come?" Vegeta was so shocked at the response that he released her.

"Since I let you stay here you have given me nothing but reasons for regretting it. You've stolen our ship, enslaved my parents, scared our employees to death, you've eaten all the food we have and you never said thank you for saving your worthless life twice! Worse, you've never called me by my name! It's only woman this, stupid girl that!"

"I never name unworthy creatures. Now, go get the senzus...if you want to live a little more."

"In your dreams!" she raised her little nose and strutted toward the door.

"Come back! Or I'll kill you!"

"Go ahead. If you kill me, Dad'll put you out and you'll never see your precious Gravity Room again. And Goku'll chase you around the world to avenge my death; I'm his lifelong friend, y'know. You won't have any chance."

By one turn, Vegeta really wanted to kill that woman who humiliated him in such a low way; by another, he admitted she had guts. Rare creatures, even among the ones stronger than him, were able to stand a verbal duel like that. They usually gave him hateful looks or cursed him pathetically. That weak human female had more guts than all the rest of Kakarott's useless friends. Such an enemy he would be pleased to fight; she hadn't any fighting power, however. While the greatest moron in the universe...

Tsc. Fate had an odd way of giving its gifts.

He snorted in defeat.

"Alright! You helped me, I admit! Now get me the blasted senzus wom... Bulma!"

It wasn't one please, let alone one thank you. However, when she heard her name pronounced by Vegeta, Bulma stopped and turned around, her blue eyes beaming happilly. Vegeta had seen her eyes sparkling many times in anger, but never like that... like they were filled with tiny stars, looking even more blue. A strange chill ran down his spine and he unconsciously sat back, a sweat drop on his forehead.

"I wish I could, but I can't." Bulma said with sincerity.

The Saiyan woke up from his stupor:

"How come you can't? I said what you wanted to hear!"

"It's just your idea has come too late. Yesterday, soon after you almost blew up the house, I called Goku for the senzus. Unluckily, Master Karin... the guy who has them, has planted the last seeds, and

they'll take a little while to grow. Seems you'll have to be there for a good while."

Once again, Vegeta would have fallen back if he wasn't already on his back. He clenched his teeth and his eyes shook in hateful anger:

"Grrrr... y-you... you tricked me!"

"No I didn't! I just said I couldn't get you the senzus, and it's true. If you misundertood it, is not my fault." Bulma grinned sheepishly. The way Vegeta looked at her, however, told her that maybe

she had gone too far, so she added quickly: "...but, if you're in such a hurry to kill yourself, I can build you a regeneration tank."

"What?"

"I can build a regeneration tank! Gohan and Krillen told me how you healed Goku. I can build a lot of them... if you give me some info, of course." Her eyes shone with greedy eagerness, "Wow, the hospitals'll have to go!"

Vegeta snickered.

"What's so funny?"

"I'm sorry to disappoint you," his voice dripped with sarcasm, "But everything I know is how to operate a tank in an emergency. I don't know the details of its structure, nor the composition of the nutrient

for the baths, because those things don't interest me. I'm a warrior, not a scientist," Vegeta concluded, as he was proud of his ignorance.

"Just like Goku." Bulma pouted in disappointment. "You Saiyans haven't a single bit of scientific curiosity. I wonder how you managed to leave the Stone Age."

Vegeta pretended not to hear.

"Even if you could build a tank it would be a waste of time, because by the time you finished it I'd had recovered by myself. Saiyans heal quickly, and since I'm the prince, my capacity's even bigger than

anyone's."

"And your ego, too. How long do you think you'll take to get completely healed?"

"One day, maybe two, but it doesn't matter," he said indifferently. "Anyway, I'll have to train hard tomorrow, to compensate the time I'm wasting collapsed here."

"I can't believe this!" Bulma shook her head. "You're really trying to kill yourself!" A horrible thought occurred to her and she blanched.

"You... you want the senzus for this, don't you? Are you injuring yourself on purpose to get stronger when you recover? That's insane! You'll end up really dying and Shen-Long won't be able to

bring you back. He's not like Porunga, who can bring the same person back many times. And even if the Namekians have new dragonballs there in their new planet, I don't believe that they'll agree in..."

"SHUT UP!" Vegeta cut off her ravings with a shout.

Bulma, surprisingly, obeyed him.

"I'm not injuring myself on purpose and if you considered this possibility you're stupider than I thought. We Saiyans really become stronger whenever we recover from death; still, I could die and comeback a hundred of times without never becoming a Super Saiyan."

No one knew that better than him. On Namek, he had forced the balddwarf to injure him, so the little Namekian brat would heal him,supposing that it was enough to make him able to defeat Freeza. It hadn't. He called Bulma stupid, but actually he had been the stupid one. And, thinking hard, even if he had become immortal and Freeza injured him to a point that he'd surpassed his level of power, what if he hadn't known how to heal himself? Even if the white maggot couldn't kill him, he could have mutilated him, shearing his arms and legs off, then conserving him in his ship as an object of eternal torture. He would do that, for sure. Vegeta felt a chill inside by thinking what could have happened if he had his wish garanteed. Chill... and a bitter feeling that all those years planning had been a waste. He never had any chance of making his dream come true.

His teeth were clenched with hate.

"So much work to make myself immortal, only to know that, even if I had become a Super Saiyan, it would had been useless against Freeza. Damn him!"

"Is that why you wanted immortality?" Bulma asked. She knew the whole story, of course, but she was curious to hear it from Vegeta's point of view.

Vegeta looked annoyed at her for asking something so obvious, but he agreed:

"Yes. I meant to become more and more powerful. There would be a point where my level of power would surpass Freeza's..."

"Instead, it was Goku who surpassed you both. I see."

"YOU SEE NOTHING!" Vegeta burst out, and not only in the figurative meaning. The wave of energy from his body wasn't strong enough to cause any damage, but sent Bulma flying back. Even though she couldn't feel ki, the blue-haired scientist could see the faint gleam of a white aura around Vegeta, as he roared:

"Do you know how it is to be born to rule a world and instead, to spend your entire life receiving orders? Do you know how it is to depend on the monster who destroyed your planet even to eat and dress? Do you know what it is to spend years planning a vengeance but end up begging to

another do it for you, because you were weak and couldn't make it through to the end? No, you don't know! Nobody does!" He clenched his teeth and fists, a vein beginning to swell in his forehead. He wasn't used to openind his feelings that way and he didn't know why he was doing that now, humiliating himself in front of that Miss Wise Prick. But he couldn't bear it anymore.

"The only thing that kept me standing all those years was my pride. I was the Supreme Prince of Power, the Number One of the Saiyans, and Kakarott took it all from me! And what's left for me? To spend the rest of my life in this mudball, surrounded by morons and having their pathetic charity thrown in my face at every minute! Why was I wished back... only to suffer that disgrace?"

"Would you rather have remained in Hell? " Bulma asked, a little offended.

Vegeta didn't answer right away. He was huffing and staring at the wall in front of him, like he was considering what to say next.

"Of course not," he said at last, his voice husky and low, "Of course not. When I was brought back I received a new chance to regain what was mine. Kakarott took everything that was important to me... but he gave me another thing to rely on: my hate." He snickered bitterly. "Isn't that ironic? The one who destroyed my life has become my new reason to live."

He paused a bit before he continued: "I don't expect to you understand, nor the rest of your good-for-nothing friends. I don't care about whatever happens to me, either, as long as I can defeat him..." his fist clenched tight until it become almost white, "I might go back to Hell, but not without Kakarott!"

He silenced and lowered his head, as that outburst had worn all his forces out, sweat pouring down his face darkened by shadows. Bulma stared at him in amazement.

Was he... crying?

No, he wasn't. His eyes were dry, but there was sorrow in them, indeed. Bulma's heart tightened in her chest. Since Vegeta had come to live with her family, she almost never had seen him show any emotions, rather than anger or amusement. Some shock or embarassment, too, when she and her mother tricked him. Most of time, however, he remained cold and expressionless, like... like he was dead inside. Many times the young woman had wondered if he was really able to feel.

Until now.

Her eyes ran through Vegeta's room and his clothes scattered around. Nothing in there was really his: it was a guestroom of the Capsule Corp. His clothes, Bulma and her mother had given him because when he moved to Earth he had nothing but a battered jumpsuit and armor. Even those ones weren't really his: they were battle clothes given to Freeza's army, an standard - factory-made stuff, without any trace of personality. How many years had he spent dressed only in that, instead of dressing as a prince?

"Do you know how is to depend on the monster who destroyed your planet, even to get dressed and fed? No, you don't! Nobody does!"

But he was wrong. She knew it. Well, not in the complete definition of the word, but she knew how humiliating was to depend on others goodwill to get dressed and fed, even to have where to sleep. Like when she traveled with Goku and Oolong and they had nothing but a RV to sleep in, a generous gift from the desert bandit Yamcha, and she had to sleep naked because her clothes were filthy and there was nothing else to wear. Until the perverted Oolong gave her a cheap Playboy Bunny fantasy outfit that he had gotten from Kami knows where.

But it was one thing to lose your luggage and have somewhere in the world a cosy home and a warm, caring family waiting for her. And it was another thing to have been absolutely stripped from everything. Nowhere to go, no one who wanted him, no real purpose... only hate and desire for vengeance.

How many times had she taken her own life for empty... Vegeta was right, she knew nothing. Bulma tried to picture herself without her work, her riches, her family, her friends, her planet... but she couldn't.

"I would have gone crazy."

As soon as the thought hit her mind, she started to understand.

Vegeta was already near insanity: his obssession with defeating Goku was the only thing that kept him from the abyss. A goal. Something to grab. Even though he insisted that his pride was the only thing that had kept him going on during his years with Freeza, in fact it had been his thirst for getting revenge from his torturer. Beating Freeza, Goku had inadvertently taken his place in the prince's twisted mind. One enemy for another. She shook her head sadly for her best friend's fate.

But, if Vegeta managed to surpass Goku, what he would do next, when he had no one else to beat? Worse, what if Goku died as that mysterious boy from the Future had predicted? What would happen? She imagined Vegeta completely taken by madness, killing and destroying everything in sight just for the pleasure of destroying it, with a real meaning. The Capsule Corp in wrecks, the dead bodies of her parents, friends and herself lying among the wreckage, scattered and dismembered. A shiver ran down Bulma's spine. Suddenly, she felt like she had invited a planetary time bomb into her house.

"Let's suppose you do it," she said, trying to remain calm.

"Huh?" Vegeta looked up with surprise. He had forgotten the woman's presence completely.

"Let's suppose you become Super Saiyan," she continued "You'll destroy the Androids, then Goku and the rest of my friends - and myself, judging from this nice front-, perhaps the Earth, too. What are you going to do next?"

The question caught Vegeta off-guard. He hadn't thought of this before - actually, he avoided it. He remained in silence for a moment, considering her question. Then his arrogant mask took over again:

"I have no reason to tell you."

"Ah," Bulma nodded with a grin. "You don't know."

Vegeta clenched his teeth, because it was the truth.

"Just think a little," the woman went on in a lighter tone "You aren't even supposed to be here, for a start; you were resurrected by pure luck, 'cause no sane person would wish you back."

Vegeta just raised an eyebrow, in a "tell me about that" way. Bulma went on irritably:

"What I mean is that, maybe you haven't been wished back by say there are strange forces in the universe, even stronger than Kami-sama or Mr. Kaioh. Maybe this force, or deity or whatever who has made you be wished back has something in mind for you. You said yourself

you've received a second chance: why don't you take it and...AAAHHH!" a strong hand grabbed her forearm and pulled her forward violently. At the next second her nose was at milimeters from Vegeta's:

"If what you say is truth and some force or god wanted to give me a new chance, whether it is crazy or it knew what I would do. Anyway, that's only of my concern."

"Let go! You're breaking my arm!" Bulma was almost falling on her knees in pain.

Vegeta relaxed his grip a little.

"Why do you insist in nosing into my life?"

"I-I... I..." Bulma stuttered, her cheeks becoming red " Because you're my guest, sure! While you're leaving here I have the obligation of concerning myself with your damned welfare, that's all!"

He gave her a long, silent stare. Then, in an abrupt movement, he pulled her forward, so fast that when Bulma realized it, she was pinned to his bed with Vegeta over her.

"What are you doing? Let me go!" she struggled and kicked in vain "I'm going to shout, I'm telling you!"

"So do it. Those two old fools will love to see their beloved guest assaulting their one spoiled child! Maybe they'll put me out, " he smirked in amusement as she silenced. "Why, wasn't that what you wanted? Now you have a chance to get rid of this 'parasite'?"

She said nothing.

"What, no more babbling?" he teased in an amused tone.

Bulma just threw him a venomous look. More she couldn't do, because she wasn't sure if she could control her mouth. He was almost naked over her, and the bandages covering him partially weren't enough to keep his warmth and scent from assaulting her senses, with an intensity much stronger than when she had just helped him to walk. She felt like she was completely undressed, her blood running up to her face in a wave of heat and shame. Then she noticed that Vegeta was getting red, too. He shifted and leaned his weight on his elbows, raising his body enough to diminish the contact but not to let her go. That calmed her down.

She was completely vulnerable in his hands, she knew it; he could do anything he liked to her and even if her mother or someone else appeared there they could do nothing to stop him.

But he wouldn't.

She almost smiled in amusement, by realizing that she actually trusted in the last creature in the universe to deserve trust. Her absence of fear seemed to irritate Vegeta, because he went on with impatience:

"You called me a parasite, but if I'm causing you any distress it's only your fault. You knew the way I am, and still you invited me along with the Grand Namek Circus; no one has forced you, just as as no one has forced you to save my life."

"I would have done the same for Goku or Yamcha!"

"Don't lie! " he yelled at her face, "I have been watching you and I know you're nothing like your stupid parents or the rest of Kakarott's friends. You're vain, boorish and self-centered, as much as..." he would say 'as much as I', but corrected it in time "...almost as a Saiyan. Why would someone like you to risk your treasured life and for me?"

He was tense. Bulma could feel it in his muscles, even though he was no longer leaning on her. His heart thundered against the wall of his chest, his muscles hardened and his teeth so clenched that they seemed about to crack. Only his eyes remained the same, but the slight twitch in his eyebrows betrayed his anxiety. Suddenly, Bulma wished to feel again that chest against hers and touch those muscles and that stony face. To caress them until they relaxed, to make him understand he had no reason to be like this...

As though Vegeta felt what she was thinking, the expression in his eyes softened a bit. He bent his head, almost brushing his face on hers.

"Answer me, Bulma," he insisted. His voice was still little rough, but sounded more like a beg than an order.

Bulma... he had called her by her name. He said he never named those who weren't worth it; so that meant she was worthy now? Why?

And why did he need so much to know? If her opinions or her presence make no difference to him? He said that the whole time. Or...

A crazy thought struck her brain like a lightning.

Could he... could it be?

"Will you die in three years? ... almost as a Saiyan. I've been watching you... I've been watching you... I've been watching you..."

Did he actually care about her?

Bulma's lips opened, but something still held her back.

"He's playing with you," whispered a little voice in her mind, "He's using you the same way he used your friends or your parents. RememberVegeta is: a heartless, cold-blooded killer," although the voice was hers, Bulma felt like she was seeing Yamcha speaking these words.

"But he does have a heart," she retorted mentally, thinking of Vegeta's outburst before. His pain had been too real to be pretended. And if he was able to feel pain then he had feelings, even if they were only selfish ones.

"And you think that someone so selfish could have feelings for anyone beyond himself?" asked the voice with scorn.

A vision of Vegeta laughing at her pathetic feelings for him appeared in front of Bulma's eyes and put her blood to boil. How could she think, even for a second, that he ...?

No. She wouldn't be like this. She could be not Saiyan, but she had her pride, too.

"Are you dreaming, woman? I'm not going to hang over you the whole day," the Saiyan's voice brought her back.

The image of the laughing Vegeta melted away to be replaced by his real, usual scowl. Bot of them seemed worthy only of Bulma´s hatred. She pressed her lips tight.

Vegeta noticed the sudden change in her expression. If that counfounded him, he didn't show it.

"You want to know the reason for my concern about you, do you?" Bulma asked in the iciest tone of voice she could produce.

Vegeta didn't respond, but his eyes said yes.

"Because no one else does, that's all. Not even you. I think's so sad to live like this, without anyone who cares if you live or die. It's that simple."

Vegeta pulled back as she had smacked his face. Even though his face remained expressionless, Bulma had a strange feeling, like something had closed inside him.

"Of course. Pity. I should have known." He pushed her down. Bulma landed on her backsidefor the third time that day, she thought as she rubbed her sore rear.

He continued in an expressionless voice:

"I was wrong: you're just like the rest of Kakarott's friends, filled with this sickening Earthling kindness." Each word of his was heavy with disdain "Get out here and never talk to me again. And tell your father I want the Gravity Room fixed for tomorrow without a sound system or any other junk he wants to put in it!"

"No way!" Bulma leapt to her feet and stood in front of the bed, hands on hips. "As your hostess, I forbid you to use that chamber until you're completely healed! Understood? I forbid... " a light flashed past the corner of her eye and she heard a soft rumble at her back.

Bulma turned around. Her eyes widened in disbelief. At the wall opposite to her there was now a smoking hole, a little wider than a baseball ball, a few centimeters from her head.

"Are you crazy? " she turned at the Saiyan, her eyes sparkling angrily. "You could have killed me!" then her eyes widened again.

Vegeta was seated on his bed, a new ki ball in his hand and a smirk on his face.

"The next is yours," he said simply.

Bulma gathered all the strength she had on her wobbly legs to burst like a rocket through the door. After she was gone, Vegeta let himself fall on his back on the bed and looked up at the ceiling. Suddenly his body seemed to had been drained of all strength.

"Idiot..." he muttered, not knowing for sure if it was for Bulma or for himself.

Meanwhile, Bulma darted through the corridor without even noticing where she was going. A yell alerted her and she saw her mother coming in her direction, carrying the promised soup in a bowl on a tray. Bulma tried to stop, but it was too late.

"AAAAAAAAHHHHHH!" they yelled in chorus.

If the next events had happened in a movie, they'd certaily had been shown in slow-motion. A second before the encounter, Bulma's mother still lifted her arms up in an attempt to save the soup; however, when Bulma hit her, both the tray and the bowl flew from her hands. The bowl sommersaulted a double Olympic twist in the air as it spilled all its content over the two women (luckily it wasn't very hot) before it exploded in shards against the floor.

SSPLASSHHHHHH! AHHHHHHHHH! CLINK! CLINK!

"Oh heavens!" Mrs. Briefs put both hands to her head, getting angry for once. "Bulma Briefs! What you..." she turned to scold her daughter. Seeing that she was shaking however, the concern fast took

place of the anger. "What happened, dearest? You're white! Something wrong with Vegeta?"

"W-well, sort of," Bulma managed to blurt out, still trembling. Her arm ached where Vegeta had grabbed her and it was probably already getting purple. Fortunately her dress was long-sleeved; otherwise, she would have to give her mother some explanations she didn't want to.

"Oh dear. I told you to leave him alone. Vegeta's such a sensitive boy and you hurt him too much. You really shouldn't have said all those horrible things."

"What!" Bulma's eyes opened wide. "I hurt him? Listen, mom..." then she saw the soup on her mother's clothes and hair, the floor, the corridor, and trailed off. Part of her anger melted away. All

she wanted now was to hide herself to cry alone somewhere else.

"I'm sorry, Mom. Didn't want to cause this mess. But you don't need to worry about Vegeta, believe me. He's okay - more than I would like" she added begrudgingly "And you don't need to bring him more soup; he told me himself he wasn't hungry anymore!"

A yell from his room proved the lie in her words:

"Womaan! Blonde woman from Earth! Where's my food?"

Mrs. Briefs gave a confused glance toward the room, then to her daughter and smiled:

"Looks like that he's changed his mind. Isn't it wonderful? I'm gonna go get him another bowl."

Bulma clenched her teeth in anger. It wasn't enough that bastard had spoiled her dress, threatened to kill and probably rape her, no, he had to put her parents against her, too!

Then, her eyes suddenly sparked. She had an idea.

"Wait, mommy," she stopped her with a gentle smile, "I'll get it for you. I'll get a broom and a cloth to clean this, too." Then she left by the corridor, rubbing her hands deviously.

Mrs. Briefs stood watching her daughter go and shook her head.

"That girl... She won't admit it, but she's in love again," she said with a grin as she bent down to gather the pieces of china.

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