Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Vegeta glared at all the idiots surrounding him. There was the silly rich girl, Kakarot's insufferable child and friend, plus a whole planet-worth of useless Namekians. 

How he was suddenly on Earth wasn't a mystery. That big fuck-off dragon had something to do with it. He'd been so damn close to getting a wish he could taste it, but now he was here. Wishless, on Earth. 

Dammit. 

The planet itself was pretty enough, he supposed. In its own way. Most planets were. One of the very few things he enjoyed during his servitude of Frieza was being able to travel the universe and see these places. Before Frieza blasted them out of existence, anyway. 

His lips twisted into a scowl. He'd been bested by that asshole. It was galling. Humiliating. And the worst part was that he would never have the chance to redeem his pride. Not unless...no. Not even Kakarot was that foolish. 

Was he? 

He was mid horrible-thought when the rich girl started to yammer on about 'finding Goku', and was joined by the brat. Something about eggs and not being able to use them for long blah blah blah he wasn't listening. 

"Shut up," he snapped. "Enough of this incessant babble."

Everyone jolted and gave him wide-eyed stares. He liked their hesitancy. Their fear. He had everyone's rapt attention, and it was like a drug.  Vegeta savoured it for just a moment before finishing his interjection. "If you want Kakarot back, then listen. The Earth has a check-in station to the spirit realm. Wish him back there first. Then wish him back to life."

The rich girl stared for a moment before breaking into a beaming smile. "Wait, that just might work! What a great idea. I'm impressed, Vegeta."

Vegeta rolled his eyes and scoffed. An imbecile could've thought of it. Then again, he was on an entire planet filled with soft-headed morons.

Small footsteps approached. The kid. Gofor?  Gohan?  Goher? Something stupid like that. 

"Thank you very much!" squeaked the kid, holding out a hand. Like Vegeta had done him some great favor. 

He sneered and batted the hand away. "Don't get carried away. You bunch of softies." 

No, his concern wasn't with that clown, Kakarot. It was in figuring out how he achieved Super Saiyan. So he could do it. 

The very idea of having to ask made his insides roil with rage. It was his birthright. Not that foul simpleton’s! What cruel twist of fate gave him the ability? Vegeta was the prince, for fuck's sake. He was destined to lead the Saiyans. To revive their race and establish a new planet. 

"What about you? Got a place to stay?"

One that would never come under the subjugation of another race. They would be the subjugators! They would take over the entire universe under his rule! 

"Hey, homeboy! I'm talking to you!" A finger prodded his shoulder.

He was jerked out of his thoughts to see the rich girl right in front of his face. "What? Homeb--?" Heat flared across his face. The absolute cheek! "How dare--"

"Oh, loosen up!" She gave him an unrepentant grin. "Why don't you just drop the arrogant, Tough-Guy act and just relax! You're welcome to stay with me, if you like."

“Tch.”

"I'll take that as a yes!" She laughed and turned back to the green idiots. "You can all stay with me. Capsule Corp has plenty of room. And when the dragon balls are ready again, we'll sort everything out."

Vegeta glared in silent fury. He hated being at anyone's mercy, but the rich girl was the means to get a space-faring ship, and seemed willing enough to offer food and shelter. One thing he'd learned was to take advantage of that sort of foolish kindness. Survival was the only thing that mattered until he found Kakarot. 

And then the only thing he cared about was killing him, and being the most powerful Saiyan in existence. 

***

"Vicki!"

Vicki Trinity zipped up her navy blue coveralls and headed in the direction of the voice calling her. "Yeah, boss!"

Dr. Briefs came scurrying down a spiral staircase. "My daughter has made it safely back to Earth!"  His excitement was palpable.

Vicki's brow lifted. "Bulma, right?"

"Yes, yes. Please, come meet her."

"Lead the way."

Dr. Briefs hustled through the large warehouse structure much quicker than she might have expected, except that Vicki had already come to expect such surprises. 

Capsule Corp was well known for being as wildly successful as it was crazily eccentric. Dr. Briefs proved both reputations true almost every day, in one way or another. She'd come to enjoy most of the daily shenanigans.

A small knot began to build in her belly as she strode behind the doctor. Bulma's absence was the reason for Vicki's new career opportunity. There had been promises of her position as Facility Manager being a long-term position, but such promises didn't always hold water. Vicki hoped she was wrong, but she began to mentally review and update her resume. Just in case Bulma didn't like her, or decided she was unnecessary.  Or if she just didn't care for Bulma. 

They reached the main doors and burst into the brilliant sunlight. When her eyes adjusted, she found herself surrounded on all sides by humans and green folk alike. 

Her fists came to the ready by instinct. By force of will, she let them down. Good thing, because her boss cried out in delight and threw his arms around one of the humans, a slender girl with sky colored hair. 

She scanned the crowd. A kid, no older than five with wild dark hair and torn clothing. An intensely muscular bald guy in a martial arts getup. Another human with unreasonably spiky dark hair in a weird set of body armor. 

And honest-to-god green people of every shape and height. The nerves in her belly started to buzz. What the hell…

"Vicki!"

She jerked her eyes to Dr. Briefs and marched over. He waved a hand to the blue-haired girl. "This is my youngest daughter, Bulma. Bulma, this is the young lady that has been helping me while you've been gone."

Vicki automatically held her hand out to shake, only to find herself in a tight hug. "Oh, I've heard so much about you! We're going to be great friends, I just know it!"

"Uh…I'm sure we will," said Vicki, giving her an awkward pat on the back. 

"Here, let me introduce you to everyone!" Bulma grabbed her hand and dragged her along. 

"This is Gohan. He's Goku's son!"

Vicki smiled at the kid and shook his hand. "You definitely have your father's hair."

"You met my dad?"

"Oh yeah. About a week after I started working here. I was just about stuck on his ship when he buzzed off without warning."

"Oh, wow!  That wouldn’t have been very good."

“I’ll bet.”

Bulma waved at the bald man.  "And this is Goku's best friend, Krillin."

The muscular man rubbed the back of his neck and flushed deep red. "Hey. How are you?"

"I'm good, thanks. Nice to meet you."

She was about to shake his hand, but Bulma was already dragging her to the green people. 

Vicki's heart leapt to her throat. She wasn't entirely unfamiliar with the presence of aliens on Earth. After all, Goku was a different species. But he looked human. With their green skin and full-blown antennae, these people looked like they belonged on the cover of a pulp science fiction novel. 

"And these are the Namekians from Namek. That's the planet we were at. To get more dragon balls."

The fuck are dragon balls?

Vicki dipped her head to hide her bewilderment. "Uh...hi. Pleasure to meet all of you."

They held up their hands in greeting, but she was nearly given whiplash as Bulma jerked her over to the armor-wearing guy. His spiked hair stood even taller than the boy's, with an ultra defined widow's peak. He exuded an air of cold confidence that none of the others had.

"And this is Vegeta. He's another Saiyan!"

Vicki held a hand out to shake, but he simply glared straight through her. 

Bulma gave her a nudge with her elbow. “I know it's hard to believe, but he's kind of cute sometimes."

Dull red flared across his face. "I am not…kind of…shut up!"

Vicki bit back a laugh. "Charmed, I'm sure," she muttered, more than a little sarcasm lacing her voice. 

Vegeta looked away, his face twisting into a tight scowl. 

Vicki couldn't help but compare the man to the only other Saiyan she knew. The two couldn't possibly be more opposite in form and temperament.

"I just can't wait to see what you've been working on!" said Bulma, once again dragging her along like a puppy on a string. "You'll have to tell me every last detail!"

Vicki smiled to herself.  Maybe she didn't need to worry about her future employment status after all.

Chapter Text

Vegeta turned a slow circle, examining the inside of Dr. Briefs' ship. It had two compartments. One was a command center, with a big board of switches and buttons. The other was cramped sleeping quarters. It was designed for short trips in space and, according to the doctor, only held about four month's worth of fuel. 

It wasn't ideal, but Vegeta didn't have any other options. The ship Kakarot had used was destroyed on Namek, as was the ship Bulma had piloted. This puddle jumper was it. 

He looked under the control board and winced. Dr. Briefs had warned him about the ship being an early prototype, but Vegeta hadn't expected it to be quite so ramshackle. A rat's nest of loose and broken wiring hung to the floor. Two of the panels had scorch marks, and at a quick glance, he could see that two actuators were shot. Probably more parts needed to be replaced before the thing was flight-worthy.

A dull ache started to throb behind his left eye. He pinched his brow and let out a sharp breath. Why can't things just go my way for once? 

At least his accommodations were adequate. The rich girl had given him a room to sleep in, and her mother had given him enough food to 'choke a horse', whatever the bald idiot Krillin meant by that. He had allowed himself to recuperate for two days, and now he was ready to head out into space. These softshells weren't going to be able to find Kakarot without their precious dragon balls, so he was going to do it himself. He knew where the portals were, and some aliens that might have the means to access them. 

He took one last scan of the control board and headed back into the main building. It definitely needed work, but it wasn't a completely lost cause. He just needed to find the servant girl and order her to work on it. He stalked into the warehouse in search of her.

Vegeta didn't think much of most human females, but she'd been pretty enough to warrant a surreptitious second glance when they first met. Her dark hair and eyes reminded him of the Saiyan women he'd known as a small boy. Probably she was weak and foolish, like the rich girl, but that didn't mean he couldn't secretly enjoy the view. 

He heard voices in a room. One, a small child's, the other, a soft female voice. Looking in, he found his target, showing Kakarot's brat something on one of the machines occupying the room. 

"So when this pressure gets too high, there's a valve that will pop open and release it, which means the rest of the boiler is less likely to be damaged." She bent down and tapped a panel. "And that's what I'm hoping happened with old Myrtle here."

"You named the boiler?" asked the kid. 

"Of course I did. Don't you name the things you like?"

The kid giggled, then caught sight of Vegeta in the doorway. He paled slightly and stammered, "Oh. I better go."

As the kid scurried past him, the woman turned and rose to her feet, a curious look in her eyes. Vegeta marched into the room, shoulders flared wide and chin held imperiously. "Servant woman, I require immediate assistance."

Her eyes widened and her brows shot up. "I beg your pardon?"

"There is a--"

She lifted her hand sharply. "I’m going to be generous and assume you've forgotten, but my name is Vicki Trinity."

He barely reined in his temper. "What does that matter? I need you to--"

"Lemme guess. Fix up that old rattletrap ship." She tilted her chin up and stepped closer. "Am I in the ballpark?"

"Do not interrupt me, woman!"

"You know, funny thing is, there are two people in this conversation that care about your problem, and one of them is rapidly losing interest.”

“Meaning?”

She crossed her arms. “Meaning you need to think long and hard about how respectfully you address me. Before I find more interesting things to do with my time."

Vegeta could barely speak from the rage boiling in his guts, but she had him over a barrel. He needed her to work on the ship. Bulma and the doctor were too busy getting caught up on other projects to be of immediate assistance.

"Vicki Trinity," he said through teeth clenched so tight it ached. "I need your assistance."

“Please.”  Her voice rang with authority.

“Please,” he hissed, hating every letter in that word. 

She softened her hard stance. "Oh, is that all? Why didn't you just say so?"

The pain behind his left eye sharpened. The unmitigated…the outrageous...the absolute gall!   

Vicki brushed past him as he sputtered and tilted her head toward the hall. "Well? Are you gonna just stand there, or you gonna show me?"

***

Vegeta was about as friendly as a bout of stomach flu, but damned if he wasn’t also frighteningly intelligent. In hardly any time, he'd sussed out all of the issues that had taken her nearly a month to discover in Dr. Briefs' ship, plus a few extra. 

He stood glowering as she made a couple notes and confirmed his assessment. 

"Well?" he prodded, impatience in his voice. 

"Well, you're not wrong. Problem is getting the materials. I've been waiting for the platinum wiring to be fabricated for six months, and that panel is a custom jobbie that needs more fabricated parts. Like every other prototype, Doc Man built this thing with whatever he had laying around the shop, most of which was one-off or otherwise unique."

Vegeta huffed and started to pace. "I don't care. I just need it to work."

She leaned on the control board as his agitation grew. "Look, I’m going to be honest with you.  This thing isn't exactly in my wheelhouse.  I can figure out most machines, but in here I'm working on assumptions and literal cocktail napkin blueprints, so it’s going to take a lot of time. You clearly know more about this type of equipment than I do. What do you recommend?"

"I recommend you do your damn job!" he said, his voice sharp. 

Vicki let the outburst wash over her, refusing to rise to the bait. "Well, when you're ready to be more helpful, I'm certainly willing to put in the elbow grease. Until then, you're stuck in the same holding pattern I am. Best of luck with that."  She pushed away from the panel and headed for the exit hatch. 

Halfway there, a choked, "Wait," stopped her. 

Vegeta was rubbing his left eyebrow as though he had a severe headache.  "Platinum wiring isn't necessary. If you can get gold and copper more easily, there's a blend to make the wiring hold the charge."

Vicki handed him her notepad. "Give me the ratio of material and I'll see what I can do. Anything else?"

"Which parts are hard to find?"

She went back to the board with him and they made notes about several different fittings, and possible substitutions. 

He handed her the notepad now filled with three pages of his tidy block letters. Vicki accepted it and noted terrible scuffs on the wristguards of his armor. The rest of his gear wasn't in much better condition.  The edges of the fabric were in tatters, and there was a gaping hole just off-center from the middle of his chestplate.  How the man was upright after taking a hit like that was beyond her comprehension.

"You know, I can probably get you a new set of armor. I've been--"

"I don't need it," he said coldly, turning to scowl at the instrument panels.

She gave him a tight smile. "Never mind, then. Go out in your shabby gear. No skin off my ass."

His dark eyes widened. "You would dare--"

"Dare what? Offer to do something nice? Yeah, fuck me, I guess." She shook her head and exited the ship without a second glance. 

Asshole alien. 

Chapter Text

Earth females were an enigma. Soft and dainty on the surface, but hard and flinty if you pushed the wrong button. Vegeta hadn't seen more than a passing glance at Vicki since their encounter on the ship. A glance during which her eyes could have cut him to pieces. 

He didn't get it. She made an offer; he refused. Why was he the bad guy? And why did it bother him that he’d somehow offended her?

Vegeta scowled and threw himself back into his training regime. Now wasn't the time to think about such pointless things. If everything went to plan, he'd have a ship sooner than later, and then he would be reliant on his strength again. 

Which presented another problem. Earth's pathetic gravity was useless. He'd taken to Piccolo's trick of weighting his gear, but it was awkward and clumsy. Perhaps he'd turned down the offer for new armor too hastily. Pride kept him from asking Vicki for assistance, but every time the weights he’d loaded behind his chestplate slipped free, that pride wore a little thinner.

A steady droning beep at the far end of the warehouse invaded his ear drums as he finished training for the day.  As he headed through that area on his way to the residential dome, he spotted a big truck backed into the warehouse through one of the overhead doors.  Vicki was standing near the back of the truck, and greeted the male driver when he joined her.  

Vegeta was just about through the door when laughter caught his ear.  He glanced over to see that it was Vicki as she chatted with the man.  Laughing at something he said. Touching his arm.

A strange burning ache in his gut made him pause. 

Jealousy?

He scowled. No chance it was based on anything other than instinct. Saiyans were possessive. It was known throughout the universe not to touch a Saiyan's belongings, lest the toucher find themselves short one life.

But Vicki didn't belong to him. Nothing here did. So he could safely ignore that gut response, and file it away under foolish notions never to speak of or dwell on ever again. A momentary lapse in self control, that was all. 

The man opened the back door of the truck, and Vegeta saw pallets stacked with spools of wiring. All unwelcome thoughts about Vicki vanished and he hurried over. 

Vicki was climbing onto a forklift as he reached the truck. 

"Is this for the..." He paused. Apparently no one outside of the compound knew that aliens or space travel were commonplace around Capsule Corp. "Project?" he finished, giving her a meaningful look.

The forklift growled to life. Vicki nodded. "Got a little extra, just in case. Watch yourself."

He stepped back and watched her unload the truck efficiently. Vegeta found himself feeling just a little impressed at how smoothly she ran the vehicle, never missing a single step. He also found himself feeling another completely foreign emotion. 

Curiosity. 

About her. 

He stifled it the best he could, but the intrusive thoughts kept poking through. How had she come to know as much about mechanical systems as she did? What was her background? How had she come to work for Capsule Corp? 

And why the hell did he care?

Soon enough, the truck was rumbling out of the warehouse. Vegeta waited impatiently for her to finish stacking the various pallets, and when she did, zipped over to the side of the forklift. 

"When can you start on the ship?"

"In the morning." 

“Why not now?”

She climbed down and displayed her watch. "End of day for me, and I got shit to do. You're welcome to get started on your own, if you like."

"Me?" He scoffed. "Why would I do your job?"

Vicki gave him an odd look, then shrugged. "Then I guess you'll have to wait longer to get skyborne, that's all."

Vegeta scowled. "Or you could work on it now."

She gave a short laugh. "You missed the part where I have plans."

"Cancel them!"

Her jaw clenched tight. "Who the hell died and made you king?” 

Vegeta stared at her, instant rage nearly all-consuming.  It had been years since someone was so fucking bold as to throw his father’s death in his face, and this low-life human had the goddamn audacity?

But she wasn’t done.  Vicki got up in his face, her nose mere inches from his, her eyes dark with fury.  He sucked a breath as he instinctively tensed for a fight, and got a lungful of the most incredible floral scent.  It was enough to completely kill the impending explosion in his belly, leaving him completely flat-footed.

Her finger drilled into his chest.  “I don’t know who you think you are, or who you might’ve been out in space, but puttin’ up with your shit ain’t on my list of things to do.  Keep it up, pal, and your precious ship ain’t gonna be on my list of things to do either!" Then, without another word, she spun on her heel and headed toward her office. 

He squeezed his fists so tight his hands hurt.  What the actual fuck just happened?

***

Vicki's phone rang as she got inside her apartment. 'Bulma' flashed on the screen. She accepted the call and set the phone to speaker. "Yeah, boss."

"Heard you had a tiff with Vegeta,"said Bulma, her voice as cheerful as always. 

Vicki gritted her teeth. "He running his mouth about me?"

"Oh, God no. Dad heard the tail end of it."

She winced. Whether or not it was deserved, it wasn't her most professional moment. "Well, tell him I won't let my temper get the better of me next time."

Bulma giggled. "Don't worry about it. Vegeta has a way of getting under your skin. I don't think he means to, it's just how he is."

She set the phone on the counter and dug in her fridge for a carton of orange juice. "Who the hell is this guy, anyway? I don't know that I've ever met anyone more arrogant."

"Well, I mean, he is a prince. Arrogance kinda comes with the territory."

Vicki froze as she lifted the carton to her lips. "What?"

"Not that it really means much these days." Bulma sighed. "Not after Frieza killed his dad, blew up his planet and killed everyone on it. I think he and Goku are the only Saiyans left. Well, except Gohan, but he's only halfers."

Oh god.  Vicki rubbed her forehead. "For real?"

"Yeah. Why?"

She sighed and sank to the floor. "Because I stuck my foot in my mouth, if this is for real."

"What did you say?"

Vicki relayed the conversation, and Bulma gave a low whistle. 

"Pretty intense, Vicki."

She scoffed. "Yeah. I know."

"He kinda deserved it, though."

Vicki grimaced. "Even still. That was like a gunshot to the gut when I only meant to slap his wrist. I'll apologize tomorrow."

"Whoa, no no." Bulma's voice went serious. "You'll just make it worse."

"How does an apology make things worse?"

"When you get to know him better, you'll understand. Trust me. Leave it be."

Vicki frowned. "Alright. Need anything else?"

"Oh, yeah! I wanted to talk to you about upgrading our main server room."

They talked for another twenty minutes before Vicki realized the time. "Shit, Bulma, I'm sorry but I gotta go."

"Okay. We'll talk tomorrow sometime," Bulma said cheerfully. 

Vicki changed into clean clothes and headed out to her truck. By the time she reached it, her phone was ringing again. This time 'Dom' flashed on the screen. 

"Yeah, yeah," she said as she answered the call. "I'm on my way."

"Jesus, Vicki," snapped Dominic, her twin brother. "I gotta be outta here in five."

She rolled her eyes. "You're going out to the bar with Tommy Two-Tone, not meeting the pope. I'll get there when I get there."

Dom was still bitching when she ended the call and fired up the truck. As she made her way to her mother's house, she replayed the confrontation with Vegeta over and over in her mind, cringing with each playthrough. Nothing like kicking a guy when he was already down. Why the hell hadn't anyone told her about the guy's history? 

And why the hell did she care if she hurt his feelings?  Not like he’d been a model of civil behaviour.

Tommy’s battered old Camero was in the driveway when she pulled up. He gave her a curt head nod as she walked past. Dominic rushed out the front door. 

"She's on the couch. Already ate. Meds at 8pm.  I’ll be home when I get home."

Vicki waved dismissively and headed into the house.  She used her key to lock the extra deadbolt and looked in the kitchen.  It was a mess, as always. Dishes were stacked on the kitchen table, the garbage can was overflowing, and there was a stack of mail that looked ready to topple at any moment. She checked the back door, and found the extra deadbolt unlocked.  "Fuck sakes, Dom," she muttered as she locked it herself.

She made her way into the living room where her mother sat in an armchair. The TV was on some shitty sports channel, but it didn't matter. Marilyn Trinity wasn't watching. Not really. 

Vicki muted the TV and crouched in front of her mother.  "Hey, ma.” 

Her mother gave a vague smile, and continued to stare into nothingness, her empty hands twisting restlessly. Vicki hunted down her fidget blanket. When she didn't find it beside the chair, she gritted her teeth. Why her brother couldn't leave it at the ready was beyond her. 

She found the thing balled up in the entry closet, and brought it to her mother. It took a moment for Marilyn to realize something was on her lap, and then she began to methodically fuss with it. There were pockets to button and unbutton, zippers to open and close, and many other mundane objects to interact with while she sat in her chair. 

Vicki sat on the couch and examined her mother.  Her hair was a mess, and there were some food stains on her cheek and on her sweater.  If Marilyn knew her current state of affairs, she’d have died of embarrassment, but she didn’t have a clue.  Her Alzheimer’s disease had progressed to the point that most days she wasn't cognizant of anything around her. Not even her own children. 

Dominic was supposed to be acting as caretaker for their mother, but with every passing week, he was doing a worse and worse job of it.  Not that Vicki could do anything about it, even if she wanted to.  It was their father’s wish that Marilyn remain in her home and not be put into a care facility.

A bitter taste rose up her throat.  Easy for Ambassador James Trinity to say.  He was an ocean away, and didn’t have to watch as Marilyn’s health failed, or see the filth Dominic left her to live in.  He didn’t get the panicked midnight calls when her brother forgot to lock the keyed deadbolts, so Marilyn had wandered out of the house, usually not wearing the tracking device intended to make it easier to find her.

Anger was starting to make her heart pound, so she forced herself to start talking about her day.  Anything to change her train of thought and fill the painful silence.  "I met this new guy at work. Name's Vegeta, and he's a real piece of work, you know?"

Marilyn didn't even look her way. 

Vicki swallowed past a lump in her throat and kept talking. "I guess he's got good reason to be such a jerk, though. His whole planet was blown up. Did I tell you he's a prince? An honest to God royal. Can you believe that?"

Another vague smile came to her mother's lips as she tied a neat bow with some strands of ribbon. 

Vicki sighed. "I guess I should try to make nice. That's what you'd tell me to do, isn't it?"

There still wasn't an answer. Vicki heaved a long sigh and got to her feet. If she had to be stuck at the house for the evening, she would at least get the house cleaned and give her mother a bath. 

***

Vegeta made his way to the kitchen.  It was supper time, and he’d been told that not only was he welcome to join the Briefs, he was expected to.  

His first experience with Bulma’s parents had been surprisingly pleasant.  They seemed to think he went out of his way to save their daughter’s life, which couldn’t be further from the truth.  She’d just so happened to be there when he redirected Frieza’s rage.  But when he tried to correct them, they decided he was ‘just too modest to accept praise’ and gushed over him all the same.

They must have an ulterior motive.  Praise did not come for free, nor did the rewards of food and shelter.  Vegeta kept waiting for the penny to drop, for them to make demands of his time and energy, but so far, nothing.  Just more kindness that felt about as foreign as his curiosity about Vicki.

He scowled.  Stop thinking about that blasted woman.

“Oh, Vegeta, there you are!  Come sit down, dear,” called Mrs. Briefs.  

Vegeta had never been given her first name, and didn’t know if it was proper protocol to ask the lady of the house’s first name, so decided to stick with Mrs. Briefs until instructed otherwise.  He joined them at the table.

The dining table was large, with the potential to seat at least ten people.  Bulma never seemed to sit in the same chair twice, but the matriarch and patriarch did, so Vegeta followed their lead and sat in the same chair at every meal.  They seemed to at least have some decorum, unlike their daughter.  He'd chosen a seat close enough to the others that he didn’t need to stretch to get the food, but far enough away that casual conversation didn’t easily flow his way.

He was still stunned at the amount of food available.  With Frieza, food had been regulated to the calorie, and was often used as praise or punishment.  There were plenty of days he went without for his ‘defiant attitude’, especially early in his servitude.  He'd learned early on to bolt his food before it could be taken away, and to guard his daily ration viciously. It took great effort not to guard his plate while at the Briefs' table. 

Not only that, but Frieza’s food had been bland, at best.  The richness of the food provided by the Briefs upset Vegeta’s stomach at first.  Not that he’d dared admit it to them, for fear that they’d be insulted and stop providing him with meals altogether. 

Tonight’s fare smelled incredible.  Nearly everything they provided did.  There was some sort of roasted meat with sauce, white mashed root vegetables, a yellow kernel of some variety, buttered bread, and leafy greens in some sort of creamy dressing.  His stomach started to churn in anticipation.

Bulma sat beside him and pointed to each dish in turn.  “Roast beef, gravy, mashed potatoes, corn, and Caesar salad.”

He memorized the terms as he waited for the family to take their portion, then matched the amount of food on the doctor’s plate as best he could.  They had repeatedly assured him that he was welcome to eat more, and he usually did, but he always waited until the Briefs had all had their fill before he indulged in killing his appetite.

Bulma nudged him as he took his first mouthful.  “Heard you got into it with Vicki.”

His face went hot as he chewed and swallowed.  “Did she come running to you?” he asked, his voice more acidic than he really intended.

She scoffed.  “No.  Dad heard you two bickering and mentioned it.”

Dr. Briefs went slightly pink.  “Only as an observation.”

Vegeta grimaced.  Last thing he wanted was to offend the doctor.  “I will refrain from dealing with her directly in the future.”

Bulma rolled her eyes.  “No one is saying that.  She certainly isn’t.”

“I thought she didn’t come running to you.”

“I called her to talk about it."

He bit back the rebuke hovering at the back of his throat.  Why couldn’t this mouthy human mind her own business?  “I see,” he said through gritted teeth.

She spoke with her mouthful, “Anyway, she feels bad about what she said, so try not to hold it against her, will you?”

His hand tightened on the fork to the point that the metal started to deform.  He made a conscious effort to loosen his grip and give a casual shrug.

Bulma nudged him again, sparking his ire.  “She didn’t know you were a prince.  I thought you would have told her already.”

He frowned.  “Why would I?”

“You tell everyone else.”

“I do not.”

Bulma scoffed.  “I find that hard to believe.”

Vegeta stuffed a forkful of meat into his mouth and looked away.  Bulma made an impatient sound, but he studiously ignored her.  After a moment, the conversation mercifully turned to something else.  He didn’t listen.  His mind was stuck on Vicki, yet again.

He chewed slowly as he processed the revelation that Vicki felt bad for saying what she did. Why? She clearly intended to offend him, and it damn well worked.  What difference did it make whether or not she knew about his past?

"Isn't that great, Vegeta?"  Bulma gave his shoulder a squeeze.

He jerked his shoulder out from under her hand, and very nearly belted her out of instinct.  He drew a long, slow breath to steady his temper.  "Isn’t what great?"

Bulma gave a sharp sigh. "About the dragon balls. Dende says the Namekian balls work on the Namekian calendar, which means they'll be ready in only four months!"

"As opposed to?"

She crossed her arms. "Don't you know how they work?"

Vegeta shook his head. "No. Not really."

Bulma scoffed. "You went all the way to Namek without knowing how dragon balls work?"

He didn't need to explain himself to her or anyone else. Vegeta was about to tell the loudmouth human as much when Mrs. Briefs cleared her throat daintily.

"Bulma, dear, no dragon ball talk at the dinner table."

Vegeta could have kissed her for the reprieve.

Bulma rolled her eyes. "Oh, whatever.  It’s not shop talk.”

Her mother’s voice sharpened.  “Bulma.”

There was a tense silence at the table.  Vegeta shoveled more food into his mouth before the fight could cut the meal short.  

Bulma had a muleish expression, but finally gave a shrug. “Well, anyways, I just thought it was exciting.”

“That’s lovely, dear.”  Mrs. Briefs clapped her hands.  “If everyone is done eating, I’ve made a special dessert.  Would you bring it to the table, Bulma?”

Vegeta started to rush even faster through the rest of his plate, only to hear the softly cleared throat of Dr. Briefs.

“Vegeta, you are welcome to eat your fill.  You do not have to rush.”

Heat flared across his face again.  “Yes, sir.”

Dr. Briefs smiled, but did not repeat his favourite phrase: You do not have to call me sir.

After eating three platefuls of the main courses, Vegeta had been introduced to something called 'turtles cheesecake'. He didn't taste meat of any kind, only the rich creamy chocolate along with sweet caramel and crunchy bits that Bulma called pecans. She'd laughingly explained that the cake was named after chocolates that were turtle shaped, not after actual turtles. He might've felt stupid, but how the hell would anyone have known that? 

At any rate, it was far and away the most decadent thing he'd ever eaten, and he could tell his guts would make him pay if he ate too much of it. But he enjoyed it, all the same, and said so to Mrs. Briefs, who beamed a smile his way. 

When he finally escaped the supper table, Vegeta found himself far too restless to stay in his quarters.  Bulma kept bugging him to use the pool, or any of their other recreation rooms, but none of them were appealing.  He wandered through the warehouse and wound up standing next to the spools of wiring.

You're welcome to get started on your own, if you like.

His caustic response made him wince in hindsight.  Perhaps he hadn’t been at his most gracious.  She was doing him a favour, after all.  

The memory of her floral scent washed over him, making his gut tighten, immediately tempered by the memory of his anemic response to her vitriol. That had been entirely unexpected. No one spoke so freely to him. They didn't dare because he was the most powerful Saiyan alive, with the power to wipe most anyone out of existence.

So why hadn't he vapourized her? 

Whatever it was, it couldn't happen again. He wasn't on Earth to go soft on anyone, let alone the most infuriating woman he'd met in his entire life.

Chapter Text

Sleep hadn't come easily, nor had it stuck around. Not only had Dominic gotten home well past midnight, but guilt had jabbed Vicki awake all night. She gave up trying at 4am.

Vegeta was a demanding little prick, but he didn't deserve the kind of cheap shot she'd taken. Bulma said not to bother with an apology, but that didn't mean Vicki couldn't make it up to him with action, and the quickest thing she could figure was getting that wiring job done. 

Vicki parked her truck and climbed out into the misty pre-sunrise morning. It was damn early. Too early. She hadn’t dragged her ass out of bed at o-dark-stupid since her last stint in the navy. The triple espresso latte was going to help, but with every new yawn, it was clear that she'd lost the 'early bird' ability she'd honed during her Navy days. 

The building was quiet as she made her way into the main warehouse to get the wire moved to the ship. To her great surprise, all of it was gone, despite the forklift remaining exactly where she’d parked it. 

Vicki hustled out to the ship. The pallets of wire were now stacked neatly beside it, in a spot no forklift could have accommodated. One pallet was conspicuously short of a spool. She furrowed her brow and went inside the spherical pilot's chamber. 

One spool rested in the middle of the floor. The man haunting her thoughts resided on a chair facing it, his feet kicked up and his chin dropped to his chest. A soft snore reached her ears. 

Two panels were already opened, and some wiring had been threaded through. She spotted one of her tool bags under his chair.

As she moved to grab the bag and get started on the wiring job, her eyes landed on Vegeta’s face. In sleep, his ever-present scowl softened, giving him a far more youthful appearance. He was actually quite handsome beneath all that cold disdain. Regal, even. 

Vicki scoffed to herself. The only reason that word popped into her head was because of her conversation with Bulma. 

Prince Vegeta. Ruler of a long destroyed planet and, for all practical purposes, an extinct people.  Probably explained the massive chip on his shoulder, and his royal pain-in-the-ass entitlement issues.

She shook out of her thoughts and carefully pulled the bag of tools from under the chair, trying not to wake him. It was almost successful, but then a loosely packed screwdriver clattered to the metal floor. 

He was awake in a flash and had her pinned to the wall by her throat a breath later, teeth bared. There was nothing behind his eyes, just the blank stare of a man trapped in a night terror. His other hand was in a clenched fist aimed her way. 

"Whoa, hey." Vicki put both hands up in surrender. Her heart was pounding about as hard as his breath rasped out of his chest. "Vegeta, snap out of it."

It took his eyes another ten seconds to clear, and then he staggered back a step and released her, blinking rapidly. 

"What the hell is going on?" he asked, his voice even coarser than it normally was. 

She rubbed her throat. Other than a lingering memory of the pressure, nothing ached. "You were sleeping. I wasn't trying to wake you--"

He hissed something under his breath and dragged a hand through his spiky hair, which sprang back into place. Scarlet started to rise up his neck and over his cheeks. 

Vicki decided to show the Saiyan mercy, and pointed to the open panels. "Looks like you got a decent start here."

He cleared his throat sharply and nodded. "Yeah. Got the wire spools moved over and started on the ignitor switch. Figured that was the best point to start."

"Agreed." She pulled out her voltmeter and clipped it between two switches. "Power seems to be transmitting at the correct amperage."

Vegeta rubbed his eyes and fought, unsuccessfully, against a yawn. "Good."

She cocked her head.  “How, exactly, did you move those pallets?”

He shrugged.  “Carried ‘em over.”

“Like, by hand?”

“Yeah.”

“Wow."

“Is it that hard to believe?” he said, an edge coming to his voice.

It was her turn to shrug.  “I mean, yeah.  Each of those spools are about fifty pounds, and there are nine spools per pallet.  I can’t think of anyone on earth that can just casually move 450 pounds of awkward ass pallets by hand.  It’s kind of mind-blowing that you did.”

“Well, I’m not one of you earth weaklings.”

She smirked.  “Oh, that's right. Silly me."

Another yawn wrestled free from him, despite his clear struggle against it.  Vicki side-eyed him.  Exhaustion was weighing heavily on him, but there was a stubborn glow to his eyes.  If she didn’t give him the boot, he would stick around, whether or not it was helpful or healthy. The trick would be whether or not she could make him feel like it was his idea. Otherwise, she was sure he'd hover like a worried mother hen. 

She deliberately reached for a storage panel directly behind him, forcing him to step out of her way. Then, a moment later, she turned back just quick enough that they would've collided chest first if he didn't catch her by the shoulders at the last second. 

"Sorry," she said, patting him on the center of his chestplate and injecting as much cheer into her voice as she could. "Tight quarters. Probably going to be doing that a lot."

He released her and stepped back, bumping lightly into a bulkhead. "S'fine."

"Oh no, you bonked your head." Vicki poured on the maternal instinct and started to fuss over him until he protested and batted her hands away. 

"You know, I think you've got this."

She put a hand to her heart. "You sure? Teamwork makes the dream work."

"Uh…I'll…"

"I mean, I guess you could come down here after I'm finished for the day."

The relief at her suggestion was clear in his eyes, though his mouth twisted into its standard frown. "That sounds reasonable. I will leave. Er…now." With a clumsy salute, he spun on his heel and left the capsule. 

Vicki watched him go and laughed to herself. Like candy from a baby. 

***

Vicki was a master of wiring. Vegeta held no shame in admitting as much. He was, in fact, awed by how tidy her workmanship was. Each cable and wire was run straight and clean, tied together with plastic ties, and labeled clearly. Next to no debris littered the ground around her as she worked.

"This is a vast improvement," he said. 

"Anything was an improvement over the disaster zone I started with," she said, her voice muffled beneath the panel she was working on. 

He smirked. "Fair point."

Vicki finally hauled herself out from under the control board. Her hair was mussed, grime was smeared across her face, and there were several small nicks and cuts visible on her hands that she ignored.

Vegeta caught himself staring and had to force his gaze away.  

She wiped her palms on her coveralls and stretched her arms to the side. When her hands easily made contact with either side of the ship, she gave a little start and shot a glance his way. 

"So…"

He lifted a brow. "So…what?"

"So you're gonna go out into space in this cramped thing?"

Vegeta shrugged. "Been in smaller."

Her eyes widened. "What? No way."

He stiffened. "Are you calling me a liar?"

"No," she said, her voice getting a flinty edge. "Just hard to imagine how claustrophobic it would be."

Vegeta took a breath, and throttled back his naturally defensive reaction. "Not really. Small ships like that are faster. A trip that will take this vessel a week would take those ships a day or two."

"Yeah, I dunno if that makes up for feeling like you're in a tomb." Vicki started for the exit, then paused. "Uh, hey. Vegeta?"

He scowled her way. "What?"

Her cheeks were going pink, but she boldly held eye contact. "About yesterday. I'm not going to lie and say I’m sorry for laying into you. But I didn't…" She waved a hand. "I didn't know, and I'm genuinely sorry if I hit a raw nerve.  I would never have said anything like that if I’d known."

For the second time in as many days, she had him tongue-tied and flat-footed. Before he could formulate any response, she gave him a sharp nod. "Anyway, see you in the morning." And then she was gone, and he was left with a whole batch of confusing emotions, not the least of which was why this impudent woman had him so tied up in knots.

Earth's softness must already be infecting him. The sooner he could escape to the stars the better.

Chapter Text

Vicki didn’t come at stupid o’clock the next morning, but close to it.  She found herself slightly disappointed that Vegeta wasn’t camped out in the pilot seat again, and squashed that train of thought.  Just because he was handsome when he was asleep didn’t make him any less of a pain in her ass.

He’d gotten a lot further in the wiring project.  Nearly half the entire control board was now correctly wired.  It was almost as tidy and straight as she might have done herself.  Fixing the machine in the future would be far easier than the nonsense they had to do on the initial wiring mess.

She picked up where he left off, and finished the rest of that panel.  As she moved to the next one, her phone started to ring.  She swiped accept and trapped the device between her ear and her shoulder.  “Trinity.”

“Yeah, hey, it’s Phil over at Central Mechanical.  Got word from the fabricator that things are running behind.  Again.”

Vicki sighed and sank onto the pilot chair.  “What’s the excuse this time?”

“They had another big order that came in before yours, and it wiped out their stock of platinum.”

She pinched the bridge of her nose.  The components in question had to be platinum to take the charge going through them.  “And there isn’t anyone else that can fabricate this stuff?”

“Not any faster,” Phil said, an apologetic note in his voice.

Vegeta stuck his head through the open hatch.  She lifted two fingers in greeting, then said, “Well, just do what you can, Phil.  I’ve got the boss breathing down my neck on this project.”  She shot a smirk at Vegeta, who scowled.

Phil made a few empty promises he couldn't possibly keep, and they ended the call.  

She let her hand fall to her lap.  “Well, fuck.”

Vegeta stepped into the cramped chamber.  “What?  What’s wrong?”

“That was Central.  More problems getting those parts fabricated.”

“What the hell is wrong this time?”

“Same old.  Platinum is tough to come by.”

He began to pace, which was an accomplishment, seeing as there was barely enough room to move two steps in either direction.  “Why are we wasting our time with these people? With Phil,” he said, enough acid on Phil’s name to make it drip.

“Every other supplier is going to be in the same boat.  Phil’s hands are tied by the fabricator, which ties our hands.  Short of mining for platinum ore ourselves, this is the best we can do.”

“Then go to the fabricators directly!”

She held a foot out to block his agitated steps.  He faced her with a dark glower.  “Vegeta, do you think this is the only time we will need parts for this ship?”

His frown deepened.  “No.”

“So then it would probably be a terrible idea to go over Phil’s head.  Because he’ll be the guy to help us in the future.”

He scoffed and waved a hand dismissively.  

Vicki got to her feet.  “Look, I'm just saying. If you want to gather honey, don't kick over the hive.”

His face twitched, and then he gave her a questioning head tilt.  “Honey? What the hell are you talking about?"

“If we go shouting and kicking up a fuss, Phil is not going to be half as willing to help us in the future.  Might not matter to you, but it matters to me.  He doesn’t just supply the parts for your projects, after all.”

Vegeta appeared to still be working through the idiom in his head as she turned to the control board.  

“Nice work on this wiring, by the way.”

“Thanks,” he said stiffly.

“You’re welcome.  Off to train?”

He grunted.  “Pointless as it is.”

Vicki frowned.  “Wait, what do you mean?”

“Never mind,” he snapped, spinning on his heel toward the exit.

The fuse on her temper ignited.  She fought to keep it under control.  "Could you please, for once in your life, just calm your tits?"

His dark eyes were wide as he spun back around. "I beg your--"

She cut a hand through the air. "You look fighting fit to me, so what's the issue?"

“What do you care?”

Vicki gave an exasperated huff.  “I don’t know.  Maybe I can offer suggestions.  I grew up on this planet, you know.  Might have some insider intel that might make a difference. Or maybe, just maybe, I'm trying to be friendly, for fuck's sake."

Vegeta glared at her, and said snidely, “Alright, fine.  What can you do about Earth’s gravity?”

"Uh…in regards to…?”

“It is pathetic and weak.  Barely worth its name.”

She gave a short laugh, to which his eye twitched.  “You know, a year ago you’d’ve had me stumped.  But today?  Today is your lucky day, my handsome Saiyan friend.”

***

Vicki punched in a code on a large cube-shaped structure.  A hatch hissed open and she stepped inside.  Vegeta followed warily.  

“Doc built this grav-tank for Goku a few years ago.” 

It was a small space, only about 25 feet squared, with a domed ceiling that rose to maybe 30 feet in its center. Pale light glowed above a raised dais that featured a simple keypad in its center, along with a red switch. A battered punching bag hung in one corner, along with a speed bag in another, a climbing pegboard on one wall, and chin-up bars at various heights and locations. The walls and floors were battered, with chipped paint, dents, and stains marring nearly every surface. 

She stepped over to the keypad and entered another code.  The entire room hummed, and numbers flashed on the display.  She punched the number 2 into the pad, and there were more rumbling hisses.  Then, barely perceptible to Vegeta, the gravity increased.  

Vicki hit the red switch, and the machine reverted to standard gravity.  “I guess Goku--”

“Kakarot,” he corrected absently.

“What?”

“His name is Kakarot.”

Vicki blinked, then asked, “Why do you call him a different name?”

“It’s his Saiyan name,” he said, losing interest in the conversation as he examined the keypad.  “How high can this thing adjust gravity?”

“One hundred times normal.”

“Can you make it go higher?”

Her jaw dropped but, to her credit, she recovered quickly.  “I’m sure there are ways, but it'll take time.  What should I prioritize?”

Vegeta frowned.  “What do you mean?”

“The ship, or this machine.  I can’t do both, and my regular duties as well.”

“Why can’t Bulma or the Doctor help?”

She smirked and cocked a hip against the central panel.  “Because they are the cool-guy inventors, and I am the guy that fixes it all after the fact. Plus they've still got a few of their own projects to complete, so you'll be waiting a couple months."

“That doesn’t sound efficient.”

Vicki shrugged.  “Normally wouldn’t be an issue, but there’s this guy hanging around who has all kinds of extra work he wants done.”

“Well tell that guy to fu--”  He paused as the smile on her face broadened.  “Oh. I'm the guy. You’re messing with me.”

“I knew you were smarter than you looked,” she said, giving him a cheeky wink.  She pulled out her pad of paper and scribbled on it.  “Here is the entry code, and the activation code.  Work with one hundred times gravity for now.  I’ll see when I can make further adjustments.”

He took the paper, and found barely legible numbers scrawled across it.  It was on the tip of his tongue to chastise her for it, but the delighted sparkle in her eyes made the words die on their way up his throat.  “Alright,” he managed instead.

“Just be careful, wouldja?  I don’t know how well this thing works, and I don't see any semblance of an emergency shutdown switch outside the tank.  Last thing I’d want to see is you pancaked because something failed.  Capiche?”

Vegeta had no idea what ‘capiche’ meant, but being pancaked sounded bad, so he nodded.

She headed for the door, then paused. "Oh, and hey."

He looked her way. 

"You’re welcome." 

A half smile eked free at the overly blatant hint. "Thank you, Vicki," he said drily. 

***

Vicki fought with the wiring on the last panel of the ship.  She was hip deep in the guts of the machine and humming to herself when someone tapped her foot. The unexpected touch made her jolt and crank her head on a support bracket.  “Ow, son of a biscuit seller!” she yelped.

In an instant she was yanked out, and the surprisingly concerned face of Vegeta was inches away.  “What happened?”

She rubbed the top of her head, which smarted terribly.  “I hit my head because you caught me off-guard.”

He pulled her hand away from the aching spot.  His fingers probed with surprising gentleness.  “Skin didn’t break.  You’ll have a knot for a few days, but you’ll live.”

“Gee, thanks, doc,” she muttered, resuming her rubbing.

“What are you doing here this late?”

Vicki glanced at her watch, and winced.  “Because I lost track of time.  I’m almost finished with the last panel.”

Vegeta’s dark eyes examined her, his gaze inscrutable.  “I’ll finish it up.”

“No, you won’t.”

He frowned.  “And why not?”

“Because I barely fit.”  She gestured toward his broad shoulders.  “You’ll get stuck, and then what?  Gotta get the jaws of life and start this whole mess over again.”

He tilted his head. "Jaws of life?"

“Hydraulic tin snips used to cut open vehicles like tuna cans after accidents.”

“Ah.  Well, perhaps it can wait until morning, if you have plans.”

Vicki gave him a suspicious look.  “That’s an awfully mellow take from you.  What gives?”

“What?  I can’t be mellow?”

She scoffed.  “Your middle name is Hypertension.”

“I don’t have a middle name.”

“That was a joke.”

“A bad joke.”

“Ha.  You need to have a sense of humour to make that assessment.”

His lips twitched into a smile.  A brief one, but a smile nonetheless.

"You're in a good mood." She nudged his shoulder.  “I bet I can guess why."

"Uh huh."

"Uh huh. Someone had a good workout.”

Pink washed over his face.  “What makes you say that?”

“Because you’ve been a miserable S.O.B. for nearly the entire time I’ve known you, but now you’ve got a new workout toy, and suddenly it’s all smiles.” She tipped her chin towards his cheeks. "That and now you're blushing like a schoolgirl."

“Tch.”  Vegeta looked away, but she didn’t miss the smile that still tugged at his lips.

“Alright, Saiyan, stop distracting me.  I only have a little bit left, and then the wiring is done.”

Vicki crawled her way back inside the panel, twisting and pushing until she was back where she started.  As she settled in, footsteps wandered the inside of the capsule restlessly.

“Why don’t you tell me a story to pass the time?” she called.

The steps stopped, then moved closer.  “A story.”

“Yeah.  Well-traveled guy like you has to have at least one or two good stories kicking around that big ol’ brainpan.”

“Once upon a time, there was a man who wanted a working spaceship.  He never got one, and died of old age and disappointment.  The end.”

She glanced down and saw that his legs were right by her feet, so she did the only natural thing and hoofed him in the shin.

Vegeta yelped and hopped on one foot.  “What the hell, woman!”

“Whoopsies, was that your leg?” she called back in her most innocent voice. 

There was the sound of him rubbing his shin. “You are the most impudent, incorrigible person I have ever had the displeasure to work with!”

“And you are a huuuge,” she strained to reach a connector, “asshole.  But I’m still pleasant to you, aren’t I?”

There was a series of muttered phrases in a language she didn’t understand, then the sound of fabric and weight settling into the pilot seat.  “I don’t…I don’t have stories.  No good ones, anyway.”

Vicki paused, recalling the stories Bulma had inundated her with, namely that Vegeta’s planet had been destroyed when he was all of six years old and, until recently, he’d been forced to work for the person responsible.  She’d hoped that maybe there had been some good times for him in all those years, but apparently she was wrong.  “Sucks, dude.  Sorry to hear that.”

“I don’t need your pity.”

She could picture the surly twist of his lips.  “It’s not pity, it’s empathy.  Learn the difference.”

He scoffed and went into sullen silence.  Vicki decided against pushing the issue.  He’d talk if he wanted.

Six more connectors at the very edge of her reach later, the wiring job was complete, minus a few adjustments when they got the missing fittings from the supplier.  Scooting out took a while longer without someone yanking her by the ankles, though when she was mostly out, Vegeta gave her a guiding hand and protected the top of her head with his palm.  

“That’s that,” she said, rubbing the muscles at the base of her neck.  “Hopefully nothing in that corner fails, because that is the definition of a bullshit job.”

He didn’t say anything, just stood with his hands in his tattered pockets.  Vicki tapped the front of his damaged chestplate.  “Still have options for armour, you know.”

“I’ll think about it,” he said gruffly.  “How’s the head?”

“I think your initial assessment is correct.  I’ll live.” 

He nodded.  “Good.”

They stood in silence for a moment.  It wasn’t entirely uncomfortable, but she couldn’t help wondering what thoughts were playing behind those dark eyes.  Before she could say or do something foolish, she cleared her throat and pushed past him. “Alright, I’m out for the night.  See you tomorrow, V.”

“Tomorrow,” he said softly.

Chapter Text

Vicki laid out on the sprawling pool deck in one of the fancy chaise loungers, the morning sun’s brilliance warming her to the core. Peeling her overalls down to her waist and rolling up her t-shirt sleeves let even more sun soak into her skin. She didn’t often take the time to go outside when she was working during the day, but the weather was too lovely to resist.

As the last bits of tension melted out of her shoulders, a shadow crossed over her face, and stayed.  Familiar, impatient breathing accompanied the sudden shade.

“Sir, you are blocking my sunbeam,” she said pointedly.

The shadow did not move, and the breathing got more impatient.  “I require assistance." A moment later, he added a stilted, "Please.”

“Cool.  You’ll get it in…what time is it?”

“10:49."

“Eleven minutes.”

Vegeta scoffed.  “Why not now?”

“Because I’m catching rays on my coffee break.  You should do the same.  Get some colour on that pasty face of yours.”

He gave an outraged sputter.  “I am not pasty.”

“Do you even know what pasty means?”

"Whatever. Doesn’t the sun give you humans cancer?”

“Worth it.”

“You realize how ridiculous you are, don’t you?”

She squinted one eye open and looked at her watch.  “You keep that yap in motion, Imma just keep adding time to my break. Could be out here all day.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me.”

They glared balefully at one another, but finally he sat down on a nearby chaise with an irritated growl.  Vicki was about to crow over the victory when there was a repetitive rattling noise.  She glanced out the corner of her eye and saw his knee bouncing rapidly, shaking the lounger.  

She lasted less than a minute before giving an exasperated huff.  “Ugh.  Fine!  You win.  This better be worth ruining my coffee break.”

He shot to his feet in an instant.  “The grav-tank is not loading the settings completely.”

“Let the record show that this was not worth ruining my break, and you owe me eleven minutes.”

Vegeta continued as though she hadn't interrupted him. “It was fine yesterday, but now the gravity barely changes at all.”

Vicki followed him into the warehouse and felt the chill of the shady building, forcing her to unroll her shirt sleeves and pull the top half of her coveralls back in place.  Vegeta was clearly dying to walk faster, but she wasn’t in the mood to accommodate his impatience. 

It had been a blissful few days after completing the wiring project on the ship.  She’d gotten caught up on some of her regular duties, and got further on her project to recondition one of the many defunct boilers in the warehouse.  

If she was really honest with herself, she had missed trading regular barbs with the Saiyan, but being that honest was dangerous, so she pretended not to have realized how much she’d grown to like the jackass alien.  Even if he was about as cuddly as a rabid porcupine.

He led her into the grav-tank and set the gravity to 50.  She started to protest, but he shushed her.  

“Watch the monitor.”

Vicki pulled a gruesome face at him, but watched the monitor as requested.  Pretty quickly she saw what he’d reported.  The gravity was changing, but very slowly, and it never reached higher than five times earth’s gravity.  She felt the difference easily, but he looked completely unaffected.  

He hit the kill switch.  As the gravity reverted to normal, Vicki started checking the pressure relief valves.  As she suspected, three out of five were completely blown, and a fourth was ready to pop any minute.  She started to head out to grab her tool bag.  

Vegeta caught her arm.  “Where are you going?”

“I need tools.”

“I’ll get them.  Which do you need?”  

“Red bag with black handles.  Maybe more, but we’ll figure that out later.”

He nodded sharply and then, with a thunder-like blast, he shot out of the cube like a streak of lightning.  Before she could recover from the surprise of his exit, he was back, tool bag in hand.  

She stared at him.  “What the hell was that?”

“What was what?”

She gesticulated wildly from him to the doorway. “That. You were there and back in less than five seconds!”

“You didn’t know I could fly?”

Vicki shook her head.

He tipped his chin up, a slightly haughty look on his aristocratic face.  “Well, now you know.”

She gave a disbelieving scoff.  “Guess I do.  Cool.  Wow.  Anyway, uh, this thing needs major repairs.  Most of the pressure relief valves have burst.”

Vegeta frowned.  “How long will that take?”

“No clue.”  She pulled out a socket wrench and fitted it with a socket.  “Gotta start taking stuff apart to see why the relief valves blew.”

A low growl of frustration rumbled in his chest.  “Can I help?”

She gave a laugh.  “Not a fucking chance.” 

Vegeta puffed up with indignance.  “What?  Why?”

“Ask what happened when I had Goku ‘give me a hand’ with removing bolts.  No thank you.  Keep your Saiyan strength to yourself.”

Scarlet flared across his face.  “So because Kakarot is an idiot with no common sense or self control, the rest of us are too?”

The words hit like a punch in the gut.  She winced and pinched the bridge of her nose.  “No, you’re not.”

His face was still red, and there was a distinct tremor of repressed emotion in his hands.  

Vicki reached over and touched a hand to his bicep.  “V, I’m sorry.  I shouldn’t paint you with the same brush.  That was dickish of me.”

He rolled his eyes. “Fine. Can we just start working on this thing?”

She passed him another socket wrench and pointed him at one of the valves.  “Yeah.  Take out these bolts and we’ll go from there.”

The only sound in the chamber was the ratcheting sound of the wrenches.  Vicki could hear how quickly he was working, and resisted the urge to turn around and supervise.  In less than ten seconds, Goku…no…Kakarot…had managed to destroy a $200 socket wrench, and shear off an entire chunk of a critical boiler control board that wound up being next to impossible to replace.  Vegeta wasn’t as bulky as the other Saiyan, but he’d easily moved three pallets that weighed nearly a quarter ton each.  He could be capable of similar destruction.

However, in short order, her tenuous faith in him paid off.  He had the first entire panel dismantled in less than two minutes, then shoved her none-too-gently over to that panel while he continued dismantling the rest of them.  Vicki pulled out a headlamp and strapped it to her forehead to take a closer look at the innards of the massive pressure tanks.  

It took a good twenty minutes of combing over the unit to find what had gone wrong, but when she did, irritation crackled through her veins.  “Aw, come on, Doc,” she muttered, along with a few choice curse words.

Vegeta was looking over her shoulder in a blink.  “What is it?”

She pulled out a set of pliers and clamped the teeth onto a plastic component.  It was already significantly deformed, making the removal a delicate process of twisting, tugging, and pulling.  When it finally came loose, she held it flat on her palm for him to examine.

“I don’t know how anyone could possibly think that using plastic components inside the pressure mechanism of a machine like this is appropriate.”  She shook her head.  

Vegeta picked up the part and lifted a brow.  “What makes this part so vital?”

“It’s a regulator valve. If that piece had fully broken before the pressure relief went, it could have caused a blowback, which could cause the whole thing to explode from sheer pressure.  And if someone,” she gestured meaningfully at him, “should happen to be using the machine at the time, they would be blasted right along with it.”

“Hm. Less than ideal.”

“Understatement of the year.”  She rubbed her forehead.  “Anyone putting this machine together should have known to check the integrity of all the components involved.  Especially at the extremes that you crazy-ass Saiyans are bound to fuck around with.”

The ‘crazy-ass Saiyans’ remark made a smirk touch his face before he returned to his grim self.  “So what now?”

“Replace the guts on all of the pressure tanks.  No ands, ifs, or buts.  This thing is decommissioned until then.”

His face fell.  “How long will I have to wait before I can use it for training again?”

“As long as it takes to make it safe.  Or, at least, safer.”  She pulled out a couple more plastic components and tucked them into a pouch.  “But we’re lucky. There aren't any unusual components in these tanks. I can get parts today or tomorrow.”

“Then do that.”

“Sir, yes sir.”  She gave him a mocking salute, and heaved to her feet. “Wanna come on a field trip?”

“The hell is a field trip?”

Vicki smirked.  “I’m asking if you want to come with me to the supplier.  I haven’t seen you leave the compound once in the month you’ve been here."

His eyes narrowed, then he gave a non-committal shrug.  “Why not?  No point training without this thing anyway.”

They headed down the hall toward her office.  Halfway there, she stopped and spun to face him, planting her forefinger in the center of his chest.  “You have to promise to be nice to Phil.”

Vegeta gave her a sour look.  “I make no promises.”

***

Vegeta followed Vicki into her office, where she started to zip out of her overalls.  Heat flared across his entire face before he could spin away and preserve her dignity.

“Dammit woman, can you show a little propriety?”

She scoffed.  “I’m wearing clothes underneath, you prude.”

“I am not a prude.”

Her voice was suddenly right beside his ear.  “Are too.”

He jerked away and turned to give her a foul look, only to see that she’d stripped down to a white, slim cut tank top that dipped low enough to give him a tantalizing hint at the perfect tits that were hidden beneath the thin fabric. A pair of charcoal colored shorts revealed nearly her entire legs, which were smooth and well muscled. Battered running shoes completed the look.

His mouth went dry, and foolhardy desire surged through his veins, despite his best effort to stifle his natural reactions. Such thoughts hadn't crossed his mind in so long he'd forgotten what a heady rush it was to be genuinely aroused. 

This woman was beyond dangerous. 

“Got anything else to wear?”

“No.”  He latched onto the distraction. “Why do I need anything different?”

“Because you’re in battle gear.  We’re going to a supplier, not war.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“So that’s a no.”

Vegeta suddenly wanted to throttle her, which was working nicely to kill the threatening hard-on.  “Fine.  It’s a no!  What differ--”

“Well, ditch the chestplate here, at least.  We’ll stop on the way and get you something more practical.”

“Oh we will, will we?”  

Vicki picked up a set of keys and a leather satchel.  “Yes.  We will.”

Vegeta realized he was obeying the command, which sparked his temper. He slammed the chestplate onto her desk. “And what if I refuse?”

“You know, it’s really cute how offended you get when someone offers to do something nice for you.”

He opened his mouth to berate her for being such a smartmouth as she unclipped something in her hair and pulled out a band of some kind.  It tumbled loose in lush, long dark waves that reached to the center of her back.  The words died in his throat and his heart started to pound as she tossed her head and flicked all of that hair over her shoulder. The flowery perfume of her shampoo smacked him straight in the snout, further fogging up his brain. The hair looked like clouds of satin thread, and he wanted nothing more than to bury his hands in those soft curls.  To use all that hair to tilt her face back so he could--

Fingers snapped in front of his face, making him jump.

“You alright?  You went to outerspace on me.”

“I’m fine.  Are we going or what?” he blustered before spinning on his heel and escaping her office.

Where.  

The ever-loving.  

FUCK. 

Is this.  

Coming from?

Chapter Text

Vegeta was being weird.  Well, he was always weird, but he was currently being very weird.  Vicki kept shooting looks his way, but he was staring rigidly ahead, as though to move his head would break it loose from its moorings.  At first she thought it was a fear of the truck or her driving, but the stiffness didn’t escalate or change at any point.  

She pulled to a stop at a traffic light.  “What on earth is the matter with you?”

“Nothing.”

Scarlet flared along his cheekbones, betraying the truth.  Not that she’d tell him what secrets his face revealed.

“Uh huh.  Well, when your knuckles aren’t bone white, I might believe you.”

He loosened his hands instantly, but didn’t otherwise relax one iota.  

Vicki rolled her eyes and turned on the truck’s radio, switching it to play from her smartphone.  Guns ‘N Roses blared from the speakers, and Axl Rose started screaming about the jungle.  Without really considering her audience, she cranked the volume and belted out the lyrics herself, only to notice a couple minutes later that Vegeta was now staring directly at her with wide eyes and a cocked eyebrow.

She laughed and kept singing along when the playlist switched to the Police, and then Run the Jewels, and then to Keith Urban, and then about half a dozen other songs.  By the time they reached the freeway, her voice was getting a little sore, but Vegeta had physically cringed at her poor singing just often enough that he was sitting and moving like a normal person instead of a statue.  It took until Céline Dion for him to finally crack and turn the volume down.

“Are you done yet?” he asked, exasperation clear in his voice.

“Nah, man,” she said, only to laugh at how raspy her voice had gone.  “I think I know hundreds of songs.”

A bemused expression came to his face.  “Why do you know so many songs?”

Vicki shrugged and took a slug of water.  “I dunno.  Why not?”

His brows pinched together, but finally he looked away without answering.

She smirked.  “I just like music, and I like singing along.  Poorly.”

He scoffed.  

“Let me guess, the mighty Vegeta is above listening to music.”

There was a long moment before he shrugged.  “Haven’t really listened to much.”

“So you just work out in silence? Like a psycho?”

“The fuck do I need music for if I’m training?”

“Same reason you added more gravity.  To make it better.”

Vegeta scoffed.  “I doubt that.”

“You know what I like most about you?  How you just know everything.”

Pink crawled up the side of his neck.  “Haven’t ever needed music, don’t really see why I’d want to try it.”

“When I’m in the gym, I make myself push until the end of the song playing.  Even if I’m ready to fall on the floor dead, I will run or lift or whatever until the end of the last note.”  She shot him a smile.  “You should give it a try.  What could it hurt?”

“My eardrums?”

She laughed.  “Then listen at a softer volume, smart ass.”

They navigated off the freeway and into the maze of streets surrounding the commercial district.  A small clothing shop stood near the exit, so she pulled into the parking lot and switched off the truck.  

“Alright, Captain Silence.  Let’s get you some different threads.”

His jaw flickered with tension, but he didn’t argue.  

As they entered the shop, a little bell above the door jangled.  Moments later, a younger person with pink hair and a long green tunic worn over blue leggings bustled out from a door near the back of the room.  “Can I help you?”

“My friend needs a quick change.  Shorts and a t-shirt or something.”

“Dark colours,” added Vegeta, an edge of scorn in his voice as he looked the clerk over.

The clerk didn’t seem to notice that edge as they eyed Vegeta critically for a moment and headed into the racks, but Vicki gave Vegeta a hard look.  

“Be nice,” she whispered, for his ears only.

He shot her a mutinous look and crossed his arms.  “Still don’t see why I need to change to begin with,” he muttered.

“You look like a homeless person."

“I look like I care?”

“Stubborn jackass,” she hissed.

“Overbearing harpy,” he shot back.

They both gave an irritated huff and turned away from one another, just in time for the clerk to return with a small armload of clothing.  “Right this way, sir.”

Vegeta gave her a foul look and they both followed to the changerooms. He disappeared into one of the chambers.  

A moment later the door snapped open.  “Size small?” he yelled, holding a pair of shorts aloft with an enraged expression on his face.

The clerk went scarlet.  “Sir, I--”

Vicki tutted impatiently and blocked Vegeta’s line of sight.  “It isn’t personal.  The clothing maker has to generalize their sizing across an entire population.  Just try them on, and quit looking for reasons to be angry.”

She could see a vein bulging on the side of his head as his rage went apoplectic, but the door slammed, and she could hear clothing being hastily jerked into place, along with furious muttering in a foreign language.  Her eyes caught sight of his sock feet, and two toes peeking out through holes.  She knocked on the door.  “Pass me one of your boots.”

“Why?”

“Oh my god, just do it.”

A boot skidded out and clunked against her foot.  She grabbed it and headed to the shoe section, comparing the sole of his well-worn boot with the shoes until she found a size match, returning to the change room with a pair of sandals and a pair of blue running shoes with fresh socks.  “Try these.”

He sucked a long breath, and she was sure another explosive string of curses were about to be launched her way. 

Before he could let loose, she asked, "Do you have extra underwear back at the compound?"

"What the hell business is that of yours?" he asked in a low, scandalized voice. 

Vicki scowled at the door. "I'll take that as a 'no'. We're buying everything else, might as well stock up on underwear too. Boxers? Briefs? Boxer briefs?"

"The fuck are those?"

"Boxer briefs it is." She tilted her head at the cashier, who winked and headed off to grab a package. 

He jerked the door open. "Let's go."

A black t-shirt clung to every swell and cut line of muscle that had been hidden by his tattered armour.  Tan cargo shorts were slung low on his hips, and he'd chosen the running shoes instead of the sandals, which somehow didn't surprise her. 

Vicki let out a low wolf whistle.  “Do you ever clean up.”

Vegeta rolled his eyes and stalked out of the changeroom.  “I said let's go."

“Yeah, yeah.  What are we doing with your old gear?”

His face twisted with an emotion she couldn’t quite read, but finally he gave a shrug.  “Toss it.”

She grabbed two more t-shirts and another pair of shorts from their hanger, and snagged another package of socks on their way to the register.  On impulse, she also grabbed a pair of aviator sunglasses.  After dumping the extras on the counter, she reached over and snapped the tag off his t-shirt, then reached for the one on his shorts.  He blocked her and snapped it off himself.    

Vicki smiled at the clerk.  “He’ll wear those out.”

When they reached the truck, Vegeta cleared his throat.  “I’ll pay you back.”

She shook her head and fired up the truck.  “Nah. I’ll just add it to your tab.”

“What’s a tab?”

“Oh, a list of things you already owe me.”

“Owe you?  For what?” he asked, outrage colouring his tone.

“Putting up with your cranky ass, for starters.”

“Tch.”

“Put these on,” she said, handing him the new sunglasses and slipping on her own.  For once, he didn’t argue.

Once they were integrated with traffic she poked his arm.  “For real, don’t worry about it.  You needed new clothes. I'm surprised Bulma didn't drag you out shopping sooner.”

He twisted his hands together and glared out the window studiously.

Vicki sighed.  “Tell you what.  If it’s less wounding to your pride, I’ll take favours in kind as repayment.”

“What kind of favours?”

“Dunno.  I’ll think of something.”

***

Vegeta could admit the new clothing was far more comfortable, even if it was about as protective as tissue paper.  What he couldn't bear was falling to pieces over the ‘luxury’ of new socks. He'd almost teared up at how snug they were compared to his one ratty pair, which turned his sour mood further south.  This so-called ‘field trip’ was a mistake.  It only reminded him of everything he’d lost, and how far he'd fallen.

He hated his current station.  That anyone, let alone Vicki, had to purchase items for him because he was completely without funds was gutting.  She was being kind about it, but that only made him feel worse.  It was humiliating enough to depend on Bulma and her family for his keep.  He wasn't a charity case, and he didn’t want to owe anyone anything. 

Vicki turned into a parking lot that featured a large warehouse with the name “Central Mechanical Supply” emblazoned along the front.  They headed inside and up to a long counter.  The place reeked of grease, solvents, and metal, and ceiling-high shelving units covered in bits and pieces stretched beyond Vegeta’s sight.  He’d never seen anything like it.

“Can I help you, folks?" A chubby guy with thinning red hair, thick-rimmed glasses, and a filthy uniform looked up as they approached the counter. "Oh, hey Vicki.  How’s it going?”

“Hey Phil!  It’ll go a lot better if you can help me out.”  Vicki pulled out her notepad and the bag of parts.  “We need to refurbish the guts of these pressure tanks with metal parts.  Got anything that might work?”

Phil took the notebook and punched the information into his computer.  “Hm.  These tanks were discontinued.  Replaced by the Mexen 6000 over five years ago.”

“Are they backward compatible?”

He turned the monitor to face her.  Vicki lifted on her toes and leaned closer.  Phil’s eyes dropped to her cleavage, and then noticed Vegeta watching him.  His face went pink and he cleared his throat.  “If you look between the two models, the 6000 has a wider bladder.  You might be able to retro-fit it, but I don’t know if that will compromise the pressure.”

She grimaced.  “Hm.  If we’re retro-fitting, I might as well go full custom and sneak some upgrades in there.”

Vegeta listened with interest as she scribbled quick blueprints and rattled out a list of parts that she felt might work.  Phil interjected occasionally with alternates, but mostly it was Vicki throwing around that big brain of hers and making Vegeta think all kinds of thoughts he had no business thinking.

Namely that she impressed him more and more each time they spent time together. As much as her upstart attitude and smart mouth got under his skin, he enjoyed her company. He…

Vegeta swallowed hard. He liked her. Which, of course, was totally inappropriate. After all, when he kicked Kakarot back into heaven and reestablished himself as the King of New Vegeta, this would be the first planet they'd take over, and it wouldn't do to play favorites among his new subjects. 

His lips twisted. Because that was still what he wanted.  

Didn’t he?

“Any update on the other parts we’re waiting on?”

Vegeta yanked his focus back on track.

Phil shook his head.  “Sorry.”

His shoulders slumped.  At this rate, he was never going to leave the planet.

Vicki gave a dramatic sigh.  “You’re killin’ me, Phil.”  

“I know, I know.  It’s the damn platinum.  Sure you can’t use any other metal?  No alloys?”

She shook her head and hooked her thumb toward Vegeta.  “This guy’s ready to go rip platinum out of the mines for them.  See what you can do to hurry them along before that happens, wouldja?”

Phil's cheeks turned pink.  “I’ll try, but you know how it is with these guys."

Vegeta scowled, and barely managed to hold his tongue.  Fat, useless idiot.

Vicki tucked her notepad back into her satchel.  “Alright, well.  Have a good day!”

Phil waved.  

As Vicki turned to walk away, Vegeta caught him blatantly staring at her ass.  This time, when he caught Vegeta noticing his vulgar behavior, he pulled an unrepentant face and continued staring. 

Before Vegeta could lash out, Vicki's hand tucked under his bicep and pulled him along.  “I’m hungry.  You hungry?  You look hungry.”

When they got outside, he tugged loose. "Do we have to deal with this loser?"

She gave him a long-suffering glare. "Why?"

"He's useless." And he keeps looking at you. 

"Compared to the other suppliers, he's a prize peach. And he doesn't mansplain or condescend to me. Like it or not, he's our best option in West City."

Except he keeps looking at you.  The thought jabbed him, prodding more pointless anger.  What did he care if some loser wanted to look at her?  She was stunning.  Of course people would look at her. Hell, he wanted to look at her.

“Alright, let’s get moving before you blow a blood vessel all over this nice building.”  Vicki headed for the truck, her hips swaying enticingly with each step, and her perfect hair bouncing softly, the silken strands glittering in the sunlight.  The white tank top had ridden up, baring an inch of golden skin on her lower back that his fingers ached to touch.

His heart leapt into his throat.  Stop it.  Stop looking at her.  Stop it.  Stop!

“I think I’ll just…I’ll…” He pointed to the sky.

She gave an impatient huff.  “You’ll what?  Fly home because being in a vehicle with me is beneath you?”

His eyes widened. “N-no…it’s not that…”

Vicki opened the door and climbed in.  “I’m going to go get Mexican food.  Have you ever had Mexican food?”

Vegeta frowned.  “I don’t think so.”

“Well, truck’s moving in ten seconds.  Make up your mind.”

Chapter Text

Vegeta had gotten into the truck as though it were made of fire.  Vicki kept her irritated thoughts to herself, but for Christ’s sake.  Did it always have to be this hard?

Vicki wanted to be a friend to Vegeta.  He needed friends.  Everyone did.  But with nearly every effort being rebuffed, she was starting to wonder if it was worth the grief.  He was constantly testy, no matter what was going on.  Being away from the compound had done exactly zero to cool his jets, despite the fresh clothing and gorgeous weather.

The drive to her favorite food truck was dominated by the music she was playing via Bluetooth.  She wasn’t in the mood to sing along, or to try and make any idle chit chat. If he wanted to be pissy, she was perfectly content to let him sit and stew to himself.  

The cityscape on his side of the vehicle dropped away, giving a clear view to the ocean.  Soon enough they were turning onto a road that led straight to the shoreside lot where nearly a dozen food trucks parked every day, including La Cantina, a truck with the best Mexican food in West City.  Normally, finding a spot to park her big truck was tricky, but they got lucky when a similar truck left just as they arrived.

Vegeta followed her into the lot, his head on a swivel.  She smiled when he dragged a long breath through his nose, and his stomach responded with a noise of interest.

Music played on loudspeaker towers, and people milled about the lot, food in hand.  Laughter and loud talking drowned out the sound of the waves crashing on the shore less than three hundred feet away.  Seagulls coasted overhead, and bounced around on the ground in search of fallen food.  

Vicki guided them to La Cantina, and saw with relief that there were only a couple people in line ahead of them.  As they settled in to wait, she nudged Vegeta.  “Anything you don’t like eating?”

He scoffed.  “Saiyans are not fussy.”

“Uh huh.  What about Vegetas?  Anything they don’t really like?”

He gave her a withering glare.  “No.”

“Alright, just checking.”

They reached the front of the line and the owner,  Miguel Garcia, beamed a smile at her.  “Senõrita Vicki!”

“Hey Miguel!  Busy day?”

“Always, always! The usual today?”

“Yes, please!”

“And your handsome friend?”

“Oh Miguel, my poor friend, Vegeta." She affected a sorrowful expression. "Miguel, he’s never had Mexican food before.”

Vegeta looked somewhat alarmed as Miguel clamped a hand to his heart dramatically and said some religious incantations in Spanish.  “My new friend, I will change your life today.  How hungry are you, Senõr Vegeta?”

“Pretty hungry, I guess,” he muttered, shoving his hands into his pockets.

Vicki hid a smile.  “Just give him the large platter.  I’ll help if he can’t finish.”

“You got it, Senõrita Vicki.”

They wandered over to a nearby picnic table, littered with the previous occupant’s trash and currently being picked over by the gulls.  Vicki muttered a curse under her breath and snatched up the garbage to take to the bin.  A seagull gave an offended squawk and flew off.

Vegeta lifted a brow.  “Aren’t there people to take care of that?”

She dumped the first load into the garbage can.  “No.  And even if there were, the garbage can is five feet away.  It is insanely rude to leave your table covered in junk.”

As she turned to grab the next load, Vegeta already had it all gathered.  Her belly flooded with warmth as he dumped it into the trash can.  So there was a little bit of decency behind that ever-present scowl.

Ten minutes later, Miguel arrived bearing two platters. One with her three tacos and two burritos, and one loaded with one of everything on the menu. He pointed to each item in turn, giving Vegeta a brief explanation as he did. Then he laid a large stack of napkins on the table between them. 

For the first time since she'd known him, Vegeta looked completely unsure. 

He looked at her.  "Don't I need utensils?"

She shook her head and picked up a burrito. "Nope. You're gonna use your mitts, and sauce is gonna run down your arms, and it's gonna be messy, and you're never gonna be so happy in your entire life."

He lifted a brow, then tentatively picked up a burrito, copying her hold. Vicki sank her teeth into hers, and watched him bite into his, holding her breath. 

Vegeta chewed twice, and all the tension in his shoulders softened. He gave a helpless groan, and took another bite, this one big enough to finish the whole thing. 

She swallowed her mouthful and asked, "You like?"

"Mmmhmmm," he answered on another groan before snatching up a fish taco and devouring most of it in one bite. 

Vicki reached over for a napkin, only to have him snatch his platter closer with a ferocious look on his face. Vicki did her best to hide any reaction and simply picked up the napkin as though she hadn't noticed his guarding behavior. 

Red washed across his face, but after a moment he resumed eating like he'd never been fed a day in his life. 

What kind of hell had he gone through to be on instant defense of a plate of food? A few people she'd served with had the same innate guarding behavior, and later on in their relationships had revealed the horrific abuse they'd suffered as children. Had Vegeta been abused by his captor? 

The more she interacted with him, the more clear his damage became, and the easier it became to understand his shitty, snappy attitude.  She couldn’t help a swell of sympathy for the alien. He was a nightmare person, but he’d clearly come by it honestly.

Miguel returned a few minutes later and clapped his hands in delight. "Ha ha! You see, mi amigo? Life changing!"

Vegeta nodded vigorously, barely pausing to breathe, let alone say anything. 

Vicki forced herself to smile at Miguel. "I think we're going to need a couple cervezas to wash this all down."

"You got it."

When the beers arrived, Vicki showed Vegeta how to jam a wedge of lime into the neck of the bottle, cap it with his thumb, and flip it upside down to mix the lime with the beer. He chugged half a bottle and finished his last burrito, then eyed her remaining fish tacos longingly. 

Vicki pulled out her wallet and passed him a twenty. "Lord knows how you've still got room. Go get what you want. It'll make Miguel's day."

He hesitated. Vicki lifted her brows and slowly started to move her hand back toward her wallet. "Unless you don't want more."

Vegeta plucked the bill from her fingers and hustled over to the food truck.  Miguel’s cheerfully bellowed greeting made Vicki’s face split into a smile.

***

Another large platter later, Vegeta was finally feeling full enough to stop eating, but he didn't want to stop. It was too good. How was it this fucking good?

What other incredible things had Frieza denied him? 

Vicki had long finished her meal, and was now just watching him eat like a starved beast. He felt like it should bother him, but somehow he found himself not really caring. Not with this meal sent from heaven itself. Even the shame of needing her to pay for his meal had faded with each perfect mouthful. 

He belched into his fist and sighed heavily. Sauce coated his fingers and had run halfway up his arms. His new shorts had a few splatters, and when he wiped his face with a clean napkin, it came back dirty. 

Vicki nudged his toes with hers. "Feeling better?"

"That was…" He was at a loss for words. 

She pointed to her own cheek and tipped her chin toward his face.  As he did another few swipes with a clean napkin, she said, "I know. I still remember the first time I ate here. I'm not convinced he isn't using some sort of black magic to make it this damn good."

A soft laugh escaped him, which brought on a ridiculously pleased smile from her. A smile that made his overextended guts go warm and tingly. Vegeta had no idea what to do with that kind of emotion, so he opted to look out to sea. 

"Trinity?" said a male voice. 

"Dan the Man," said Vicki, her voice colored with surprise. 

The warmth turned to icy hot jealousy in a blink, made all the worse when he turned to see her lifted off her feet in a tight spinning hug by a tall, blonde stranger in some sort of uniform. Army? 

She gave a laugh and cuffed the man in the chest. "Take it easy, I just ate."

"Still stuck on La Cantina?"

"Damn right." She turned to Vegeta. "Dan, this is my friend, Vegeta. Vegeta, this is Dan. We served together in the navy."

He barely hid his surprise at her being in any kind of military position as Dan held out a hand to shake. Vegeta was planning to ignore it, but then remembered how filthy his hands still were, and took no small amount of glee in transferring half of it to Dan the Loser's hand. 

Unfortunately, Dan didn't seem to care, if he noticed at all. The man's eyes were locked on Vicki as though she were the most magical thing he’d seen in months.  Vegeta hated it.

Dan twisted a shoulder forward. "Check it out, Trin."

Vicki tapped one of the gold chevrons adorning the epaulette of his jacket. "Fancy. Who'd you bribe for a trinket like that?"

"Har har. I earned it, believe it or not."

She sat down and Dan joined her, sitting way closer than necessary. "So you finally outrank me, do you?"

"As of two months ago."

"Well, it only took five years."

Dan's face went pink. "Yeah, well, we aren't all overachievers like you, Trin."

Vicki rolled her eyes, but Vegeta could see her pride burning bright. Apparently he had underestimated this woman.

"You know, I never thought I'd see the day when Lieutenant Commander Trinity would walk away from the navy."

"Time was right, that's all."

"Word has it you were in line for another promotion."

Vicki shrugged. "I wouldn't know."

"Coulda been one of the youngest female commanders in the navy."

"But I'm not," she said, her voice sharp. "End of story."

Dan shrugged. "Navy's loss, I guess.”

Vicki stared at the table. Vegeta wondered at the reason someone with such an upward trajectory would leave their position. She didn't seem the type to quit when things got difficult. 

"What'd your pops think?"

Vicki's lips tightened. "I don't know. I've never asked his opinion."

"Bet he hated it."

"Who knows?" She cleared her throat sharply. "So. You out on shore leave?”

Dan nodded. "Three days."

"Fun stuff."

There was an awkward silence.  To escape it, Vegeta got up and started to clear their trash off the table.  When he returned, Vicki passed him a small paper packet.  The label said ‘Wetnap’.  He tore it open and cleaned his hands, and his wrists, and, holy shit, his forearms?  The inside of his elbow?   This had to be the messiest food on the planet.  But worth it, he decided.

The two across the table had chatted a little bit, but he could sense that there was tension between them. It wasn’t his business, but the jealousy burning in his belly had slowly morphed into a savage kind of delight.  Whoever this chump was, he wasn’t a threat.

Vegeta gripped the bench hard enough to make his knuckles ache.  Threat to…what, exactly?  His inappropriate infatuation with her?

He was distracted from chastising himself by Dan touching her knee, which nearly had him launching across the table.

"Hey, we should do dinner. Tonight, maybe."

Vicki shifted away, ever so slightly. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Dan.”

The awkward tension spiked.  Vegeta suddenly felt as though he were intruding on a private moment, and started to get up, only to have her shoot him a glare and shake her head.  He sat again, feeling the heat of second-hand embarrassment crawling up his neck.

Dan’s face went scarlet.  “But why?”

“You know why,” she said to Dan, her voice quiet, but firm.

“That was almost ten years ago,” he said, but she silenced him with a hard look, so he cleared his throat and turned his attention to Vegeta. "So, you get to work with Trinity? Not gonna lie, I'm a little envious...er...Vegato...was it?"  

Vegeta didn't give the cocksucker the satisfaction of seeing his irritation at the mispronunciation. "I'm a lucky guy," he deadpanned. 

Dan got a moony look on his dumb face. "Yes, you are."

Vicki clapped her hands on her thighs and said, "Welp, we better get going before we turn into pumpkins. See you later, Dan. Good work on the promotion!"

Dan tried to steal another hug, only to be rebuffed with an awkward pat on the shoulder.  Vegeta could feel the man's glare boring into his shoulder blades as they walked away. The desire to mess with him by sliding an arm around her was tempting beyond all reason, but he didn't dare for fear that he might never be able to let go. 

***

When they were near the truck, Vegeta cleared his throat pointedly.  Vicki winced in anticipation of his clear curiosity.  Bad enough her cheating ex had shown up out of the blue, yapping all about her exit from the navy. Now she’d have to explain the whole sordid story to a cranky alien.

"Why would we turn into pumpkins? Follow-up question, what are pumpkins?"

Relief flooded through her belly.  Vicki gave him the Cliff's Notes version of Cinderella, as well as explained what a pumpkin was. 

They drove several miles before Vegeta spoke up again, nearly making her jump.

“You were in the navy?”

Here we go. 

Vicki nodded. "Yup. Almost fifteen years."

There was a new appreciation burning in his dark eyes. "Did you see battle?"

She grimaced. "Yeah." More than my share.

"And your father…?"

"Rear Admiral. Retired and took an ambassadorship in Japan."

"Impressive."

"Glad you approve," she said drily.

He smirked and returned to looking quietly out the window. 

She debated telling him more, but even two years later, it still wasn’t easy to talk about her separation from the navy.  And if he wasn’t curious enough to ask directly, she didn’t particularly want to volunteer the information.  Better to change the subject.

Vicki cleared her throat. "What does your dad do?"

Vegeta flinched. 

A second later, Vicki wanted to turn herself inside out. "Ah, shit.  I'm sorry. I was just trying to make conversation. That's all."

Vegeta scrubbed a palm down his face. “It’s fine.”

It sounded about as ‘fine’ as a root canal, but seeing as she’d already put her foot in it, she decided against calling him out.

One step forward, two steps back.

Capsule Corp came into sight.  She navigated through the maze of lanes to the main warehouse and pulled into her parking spot.  He was out of the truck before the engine fell silent, taking his new clothing with him.  

Vicki watched him go, then bonked her forehead against the steering wheel and hissed, “Stupid, stupid, stupid.  Why do you always run your mouth?”

When no one answered, she opened the door and climbed out.  It was late enough in the day that she couldn’t really accomplish anything meaningful, but she had paperwork she could do.  Then she could head home and beat herself up some more for being such an insensitive clod.

***

Vegeta stood on top of the tallest structure at Capsule Corp and glared up at the stars. Vicki had been immensely kind to him the entire day, and introduced him to a whole new kind of food that he was probably going to dream about for the next week. And he'd thanked her by acting like a spoiled brat over what had clearly been an innocent question. 

Outside of Frieza himself, it had been years since anyone bothered to needle him about his father.  Out of self-preservation and sheer determination, he’d learned to numb himself to their cruel jabs.  Eventually, they had lost interest in that target, and took to poking fun at his height instead, which was easily dealt with by beating the hell out of the offender hard enough to make them piss blood for a week.  Not exactly a remedy he intended to employ on Vicki.

He pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a long, steadying breath.  Apparently those old feelings still existed, and weren’t that far below the surface, judging by his raw reactions to the slightest mention of his father.  

A stiff breeze ruffled his hair, turning his moody thoughts to more dangerous memories of Vicki’s hair dancing in the wind.  His gut clenched as he imagined how silky it would feel threading between his fingers.  Vegeta would never have guessed he’d have some strange obsession with hair, of all things, but hers was so tempting it made him a little insane.

Then again, when it came to her, none of his usual behavior seemed to apply. He'd maintained a cool distance from the Briefs family, and felt utterly detached from any of the Namekians he occasionally saw around the compound. When Gohan and Krillin showed their stupid faces, he could dismiss them entirely with one glance. And if he didn’t see Vicki for a day, he started thinking of excuses to find her.  

What the fuck was wrong with him?

Vegeta forced himself to look at the stars again, seeking out the brighter light of Sirius. That star’s neighbourhood was his first stop, if he ever got off this shithole planet. 

A twinge of unease set up shop in the pit of his stomach. What if he couldn't find Kakarot? What if the dragon balls couldn't bring him back? None of his other plans seemed to work in his favour. Why would this plan be any different? 

No. No! He stiffened his spine and clenched his fists. This one will work. It has to work. 

It had to. Otherwise, how the hell was he going to achieve his destiny and rule over the universe? 

As he dwelled on that thought, Vicki's dark eyes played through his mind. There weren't any Saiyan women left, but she was so close in both appearance and temperament. Maybe…

Vegeta growled a string of Saiyan curses and turned to go to the gym.  He’d kill this stupid fascination with the earth woman if it was the last thing he did.

Chapter Text

Vicki poured herself a cup of coffee and added a dash of cream before going to stand at the dining room's floor-to-ceiling windows.  It was another beautiful day, but she was going to be stuck indoors.  A regretful sigh escaped her.

“That good of a morning?” asked Bulma unexpectedly, making her flinch and splash the front of her overalls with coffee.

Bulma giggled and tossed her a cloth.  “Didn’t mean to scare you!  Why are you so broody this morning?”

Vicki wiped the coffee away.  “I was just mourning the choices that led me to a career in which I spend 99% of my day indoors, buried in one machine or another, usually covered in some mysterious greasy substance.  Why couldn’t I have been a park ranger, or a lifeguard?”

Bulma busied herself with preparing a cup of coffee and came to stand beside her.  “It really is nice out.  You could go check all the exterior lights.  Oo, or make sure the water in the pool is wet enough.”

She scoffed.  “Right.  And not get the grav-tank done?  Vegeta will actually die of a brain aneurysm.”

Bulma giggled.  “You’d be surprised.  Saiyans are really tough.”

“They’re really something, alright,” Vicki muttered. Vegeta had very nearly set off her temper the day after she started the repairs, and now seemed to be avoiding her like the plague.

Which, if she was honest, suited her just fine. The grav-tank project had taken on a life of its own, and chewed further into her schedule than she intended, but in for a penny, in for a pound. Having the cranky alien staring over her shoulder was a surefire way to kill the project. Or him. 

“Do you like him?”

She shrugged and took a sip of coffee.  “What’s not to like?”

Bulma nudged her.  Her bright blue eyes glowed with mischief.  “No, I mean, do you like him?  Like, like-like.”

Heat started to spread across her face and she stammered for a moment before giving a fake laugh.  “What?  Why are you--”

“Oh, come on, Vicki.  You two hang out all the time--”

“Once,” she corrected.

“You take your coffee exactly the same way.”

“Meaningless coincidence.”

“And you go out of your way to work on his ship and the grav-tank.”

“You mean I do my job.”  

"And you're designing that armor for him. After hours."

“Because I don’t have time during my workda--”  Vicki cleared her throat sharply.  “You know what?  No. We are not talking about this.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re my boss. And also we're not in grade nine.”

Bulma gave her a self-satisfied smirk.  “I think I know the answer.”

She pinched the bridge of her nose.  “You do, do you?”

“Yup.  You do like him.  You just don’t want to admit it.”

Vicki was silent for a beat before slugging back the rest of her coffee, which was thankfully just cool enough not to burn all the way down.  “Alright, I’m gonna get back to it.”

“Oh, come on,” badgered Bulma, following her.  

She set the cup down with a bang, making Bulma flinch.  “Even if I do, what’s your point?  Nothing is going to come of it, so it doesn’t matter anyway.”

“Why wouldn’t anything come of it?”

“Uh, for starters, the second that ship is ready, he’s running off to space for God knows how long.”

“What if he wasn’t?”

“Bulma, I swear to God.”

Bulma clasped her hands together.  “Please?”

Vicki looked skyward.  “I need more than a one night stand with a pretty face.  Okay?  Is that enough? Can we drop it now?”

Bulma nodded, and Vicki turned to stalk out of the kitchen.  As she got to the door, Bulma said slyly, “How interesting.”

She froze in her step. It was a trap. She knew it was a trap, and yet, like a dumb animal, she couldn't stop herself from asking, “What’s interesting?”

“You think he’s pretty,” she sing-songed.

Vicki stifled a vicious curse and continued into the hall, where her traitorous brain decided to replay the same thought over and over.  

‘Pretty’ isn’t anywhere near the right description for a man with a face like Vegeta’s.

***

Vegeta moved through his forms, but without the extra gravity, it seemed pointless.  He lashed out with a series of hard punches and a backspin kick, and felt good about his speed and targeting, but the lack of power was getting under his skin.  It had been almost four days.  How much longer were the grav-tank repairs going to take? 

He didn’t dare ask Vicki again. She'd made it abundantly clear that hovering or acting impatient was a recipe for getting his head bitten off and the tank permanently decommissioned. In that order. Vegeta was many things, but he wasn't an idiot. He knew better than to test her patience with the fate of that tank on the line. 

“Vegeta?” called Bulma.

He bit back a curse.  What fresh hell is this?

A moment later she popped her head in the door.  “So what, you’re just gonna ignore me?”

“I’m training.”  He did a series of kicks, starting from a low sweep and ending on a flying roundhouse.  “What do you want?”

Bulma leaned against the doorjamb.  “Vicki wanted me to tell you that she received some parts for the ship.”

His eyes snapped her way.  “Is she working on the ship now?”

“I have no idea, but I put all the parts in there if you want to go work on it.”

He started for the door, only to be blocked by Bulma.

“Heard you two went shopping without me.”

Vegeta frowned and started to push past her.  “How do you know about that?”

She shrugged and fell into step behind him.  “I noticed your new threads and mentioned them to Vicki.  She told me all about it.”

“Hmph.” 

“So?”

“So what?”

“Was it fun?”

“Was what fun?”

She danced ahead of him.  “Getting out of here with a pretty woman.”

“What?  Is this…”  He gave a strangled growl.  “Don’t you have anything better to do than harass me?”

Her blue eyes danced with amusement.  “Sure, but this is way more entertaining. So you do think she's pretty?”

Vegeta scowled and dodged around her.  “Find other entertainment.”

“I don’t hear you disagreeing.”

“Because I’m ignoring you!”

“She thinks you’re pretty too.”

His gut clenched, and he could feel his face getting hot. 

“Just so you know,” Bulma sing-songed, then skipped off, presumably to create catastrophe elsewhere.

Vegeta’s head started to run in incessant circles, despite his best efforts to keep focused.  So what if the woman thought he was pretty?  Why was that making his stomach do backflips?

He slammed through the outside door a little harder than necessary, and winced when it cracked loudly against the building.  Dr. Briefs didn’t deserve his property to be damaged because he was having a moment.

The ship was standing with the hatch open.  He leapt into the entrance, and stopped short when he saw the lower half of the woman occupying far more of his mind than she should sticking out from under the control board.

“Hello?” she called.

“Just me.”

“Just me who?”

He sputtered, only to hear her give a soft laugh.  

“Kidding, Vegeta.”

“Tch.”  He crouched to look in on her work.  “Did we get all of the parts?”

“No, only about half of them.”  She shot him a glance.  “How did you even know the parts were here?”

He lifted a brow.  “You sent Bulma to tell me, remember?”

There was some muttering under her breath that he couldn’t quite pick out, then “Nope, don’t remember doing that.”  

Vegeta frowned.  “Then why…”

“Because she’s bored and getting her kicks by interfering in other people’s lives, that’s why.”  

Before he could ask what the hell that meant, Vicki made a strained grunt, then huffed in frustration.  “Pass me my headlamp, wouldja?”

He spotted it tucked in its holster on her toolbag and passed it over.  “What’s wrong?”

She switched on the light and got in close to the panel’s underside with her face.  A moment later she hissed a curse.  “It’s welded in place.  How the hell did they manage that?”

Vegeta nudged her legs to the side and eased under the control board beside her, looking at the part in question.  “It’s not welded.  Look at the scorch marks.  It melted from a power surge.”

Vicki scowled and picked up a pair of pliers.  “You sure you wanna take this junkpile into outer space?  Maybe we’re better off starting new.”

He took the pliers from her and fitted them on each side of the part.  It took more of his strength than he expected, but soon enough the melted material snapped free.  

Vicki shone the light at the opening.  “There’s a bunch of residue inside the connection, and there's a bit of damage to the port itself.  We might need to replace the whole damn panel.”

“Let me look.”  He squinted and used the tips of the pliers to scratch at the metal that coated the connector.  “It’ll take some doing, but if we pull this panel, I can scrape that out.”

She looked his way, shining the light directly in his eyes.  As he winced and shielded his face, she snapped it off.  “Shit!  Sorry, V.”

Spots filled his vision.  “I’ll live.”

“I’ll grab a couple screwdrivers.  It’s worth a try to refurb if we can.”

He blinked out the remaining spots.  She returned as his sight cleared, far closer than he thought they’d been a moment ago, and handed him a screwdriver.  He accepted and they began to dismantle the panel.

“Hey, I have a question, since you're here.  Well…more a curiosity, than anything.”

“Uh huh…” he said warily.

“What the hell are dragon balls?”

He frowned.  “Why are you wondering about those?”

“Because Bulma was babbling about them yesterday.”

“Coulda just asked her.”

“I could have, but I’d also get about a dozen other tangentially related stories, that somehow lead to yet another dozen stories that may or may not be related.  If I ask you ,” she tapped his forearm with the screwdriver, “on the other hand, you’ll just give me the straight dope.”

He laughed softly.  “Is that right?”

“Uh huh.  So.  What are they?”

"Well, you should ask Bulma if you want more details about their physical nature. I am not nearly as versed as she is." As he started unwinding another screw, he said slowly, “What I do know is that there are seven orbs of immense magical power. You have to seek each out and bring them together. Then you call upon the dragon contained within, at which point he will grant you a wish.”

Her eyes were wide.  “A wish-granting dragon.”

“Yup.”

“Really?”

He shot her a dirty look.  “You don’t believe me?”

She ignored his testy tone.  “So what kind of wishes?  Like, ‘hey dragon, give me a pony’?”

He scoffed derisively. “That would be a dreadful waste of the dragon’s immense power.”

“I dunno.  Ponies are pretty cool.”

Another soft laugh escaped.  “You’re ridiculous.”

“Well, come on.  What kind of wishes?”

“You could wish your loved ones back to life. That's what their plan is the next time the dragon balls power up."

Vicki’s breath hitched.  “What?”

“That’s the kind of power these things offer. Brought me back to life."

Her hands fell to her lap. "I'm sorry. What?"

He hadn't talked to anyone about what happened on Namek, and definitely hadn’t intended to say anything about it to Vicki. Saying it out loud made it feel like he was going through the humiliation of it all over again. Vegeta tried to return his focus to the panel and pretend he hadn't said anything, but her hand caught his and drew it down.

“Vegeta, is that…is that why your chestplate has a hole blasted through it?” she asked, her voice very careful.

He stared at their hands, still touching. 

She released him. "I’m sorry. You don't have to tell me. I just…wow."

Irritation crackled through him. Of course he didn't 'have to'. The last thing he wanted to do was think about that moment. 

"My my, what do we have here? A fallen prince."

A chill ran down his spine. Fuck. Fuck!  It was like Frieza was in the goddamn room. He tried to break loose, but it was too late. The memory clung tight to his brainpan, forcing him to watch the sickening replay. 

Searing pain in his chest, ripping through his guts and tearing them out the back. His spine is in pieces, and viscera splatters as he falls, helpless.

"You just go on, and on, and on like a broken record." A cold laugh. "But it looks like I finally shut you up."

Hard to breathe. Every heartbeat, more blood pools into his lungs and onto the rocks beneath his ruined back.

Get up.

Get up! 

Kakarot standing above him, blotting out the sun, looking down in horror. "Vegeta, save your strength."

Reaching out.

His face is wet.

Why is his face wet?

"Please…destroy him."

He doesn't know which is worse: being reduced to begging, or being mocked like a child. 

"He m-made me what I am."

Gasping.

Panic!

He's drowning in his own blood.

He claws at Kakarot's leg. Desperation. 

"P...pl...leease..."

A hand touched his. He jolted free of the waking nightmare, his lungs burning. Vegeta started to pull away, but the hand moved to his chest, resting lightly against his pounding heart. 

"Just breathe, sweetheart. In, and out."

Vicki's voice came from underwater, barely audible over the thumping of his heart. Air wrenched into his lungs with hard, shuddering jerks. He couldn't steady himself.

"In, and out."

He didn't want Vicki to see him like this. Didn't want to be seen as weak. He pushed her hand away. 

Her fingers curled into his and held firm. “You don’t have to run away.”

Just pull away. Pull. Away. “I’m not,” he denied, his voice hoarse. Why couldn't he catch his breath? 

“Aren’t you?”

Vegeta met her eyes, expecting pity or scorn.  Instead, he found the same warmth that made his heart squeeze tight every time she shone it his way.  It was as intoxicating as it was terrifying.

"Come on, sweetheart. In through the nose, out through the mouth," she intoned, her voice soft and slow as she repeated herself. "In, and out."

He dragged a slower breath through his nose, then another. The wildflower scent of her hair filled his senses, helping to soothe the lingering panic. When had she taken hold of his other hand?

"There we go," she praised. 

He had never felt so vulnerable in front of anyone. Vegeta hated it. Why wasn't he yanking free and running off to the gym? He needed to beat these feelings out on an unsuspecting punching bag until the thing broke off its chains and his hands were begging for mercy. 

Any second now she was going to start laughing at him. Mocking his weakness, belittling him for acting like a feeble monkey. Making him feel small. Just like Frieza always did. His shoulders tensed. 

"Whoa, hey. Whatever you're thinking, stop thinking about it." Vicki's hands squeezed his, drawing his focus back to her dark eyes. “Keep breathing. Think of something else."

His tongue felt thick and stupid. "Like what?"

"I don't know. What would you wish for?” 

His stomach twisted, but the panic didn't spike again.  Twice he’d fought desperately to obtain the dragon balls and wish for immortality, and twice his attempts had blown up in his face in spectacular fashion.  Unless the wish was open and available without a fight, he didn’t know if it was worth all the effort.  Especially not if it meant they couldn’t wish Kakarot back.  Everything depended on getting that idiot back.

“Too personal?” she asked, giving a little wince.

Vegeta finally managed to get his hands to obey and pull away from hers. He ran them through his hair to hide residual tremors. Why was he so sweaty? “Just unsure what I’d wish for anymore.”  

“Fair enough.  It’s a big question.”

“What would you wish for?” he asked, more abruptly than he intended, but also more curiosity than he expected. 

Her brow furrowed for a moment, then she shrugged.  “Peace.  For you.  For me.  For everyone.”

“Tch.  That’s not practical.”

Vicki crossed her eyes at him.  “You didn’t tell me that my wish had to be practical.”

“I thought it was a given.”

“And I thought you said it was an all-powerful magic dragon! Make up your mind, Saiyan!” Her voice was light, teasing. 

Vegeta looked away.  “Peace would only last until the next greedy person got a notion to end it.”

Her brow furrowed. "Awfully nihilistic, don't you think?"

He grimaced. Until a year ago, he'd gleefully been one of those greedy people. Just like Frieza, and just like all of his goons. It was still his goal to rule the universe, and you didn't do that without a peace-shattering fight. Maybe when he was finally on that throne, peace could come. 

Somehow, even as he thought it, the words just didn't ring true. A sour taste invaded the back of his throat. “I’m just talking from experience.”

She gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze, her eyes still exuding warmth. "Well, let's hope future experiences change your mind."

The hope of that was about as foolish as her wish for peace, but he couldn't bring himself to dull that light in her eyes. "We'll see." 

Vicki unwound the last screw on the panel and pulled it out. "I'll put this up in my electronics workshop. You can use whatever tools you need, okay?"

He nodded absently, fighting against the urge to hug his knees to his chest and hide away. Shame crushed down on his shoulders. What a fool he was to let her see him in such a pathetic state. How could he ever look her in the eyes again? 

She climbed out from under the control board, then bent down and looked his way.  "Hey, for what it's worth?”

He lifted a brow.  “Hm?”

“I'm glad the wish-granting dragon brought you back."

His eyes shot to hers, wide with surprise.

She smiled. "Even if you are a pain in my ass most of the time." 

Vegeta watched her leave the ship, wondering if it was possible for a heart to beat right out of a guy’s chest. 

Chapter Text

Vegeta pummeled the heavy bag mercilessly. The chains it hung from creaked and cracked with each hard hit. He did a series of quick jabs, then heavy hammer hits, and sharp hooks, throwing in a knee here and there when it fit with his flow.

He was fully in the zone when there was a knock at the door. When he didn't answer, the door opened and Vicki stuck her head inside. "Yo, can you take a break?"

After his breakdown in the ship, Vegeta could still hardly bear to look her in the eye. Vicki hadn't changed her behavior one iota, but it wasn't her who made a complete fool of herself, and shattered what little pride she still possessed. He gritted his teeth and smashed the bag with all his might. The bag swung violently, making the chains bounce and jangle against the overhead beam.

She whistled and waved. "Hey!"

"What?" he snarled. 

"I need you to come with me.  It'll take fifteen minutes. Twenty, tops."

"To do what?"

"It's a surprise."

"I hate surprises."

“What, really?  How shocking,” she said drily. 

Vegeta hissed a curse.  “I am busy, if you can’t see that.”

Vicki crossed her arms and leaned on the doorjamb. "Yeah, and so am I, so let’s get this over with, eh?”  

He took a swig of water.  “Where do you need me to go?”

“Bulma’s shop.  C'mon. I promise it's worth your while."

Vegeta scowled. "And if it's not?"

She was already walking away. "It will be. Hurry up."

He bit back a curse and stomped in her wake, falling in at her shoulder as they walked through the warehouse and over to one of the three main spherical structures.  Her hair was up in some kind of knot on top of her head, baring the line of her neck.  As much as he liked seeing her hair down, that wasn’t a bad view either.

Why.  Are.  You.  Looking.

He suddenly realized she was saying something.  “Wait, I missed that.”

“I was saying that Doc has a load of rations coming tomorrow sometime.  It’ll take him a day or so to encapsulate them, and then we’ll load up the ship.  Fuel tanker is booked, and should be here to top up our in-ground tanks today or tomorrow. There are some additives we need to put in the fuel before it's ready for the ship.  Provided we get all of the parts, and they all work properly, you should be able to take off sooner than later.”

“Oh. Good.”

She shot him a look. "So…you know that tub only holds about four months worth of fuel, right?"

He grimaced.  “Dr. Briefs made me aware, yes.”  Relying on such inferior technology bothered him far more than he would ever let on, but he wasn’t in a position to turn it down. Not yet, anyway.

"What are you going to do when it runs out?"

Vegeta shrugged. "I actually haven't thought that far ahead."

She frowned. "What are you looking for out there, anyway?"

"Kakarot."

She stopped short enough that he nearly careened into her. "I thought he was dead. That's what Bulma said."

"He is. But there's a portal to the spirit world where I might be able to find him."

Her brow furrowed. "I know you're not lying, but fucked if that doesn't sound like a bunch of made up nonsense."

He smirked. "I didn't make the universe. I just live in it."

“Hm.”  

They resumed walking and soon reached the spherical building that housed Bulma’s ‘domain’, as she liked to call it.  Vegeta couldn’t deny that the woman was brilliant. She just also happened to be a crude gossip-hound who seemed to love talking more than she loved breathing.  He avoided her as much as he could, but made an effort to be mostly polite when she did turn up. She was his benefactor, much as he resented needing one. 

“Hey, you two!”

They looked up to see Bulma on a catwalk three floors above, waving cheerfully.  Vicki started toward the stairs, but Vegeta was too impatient to make the climb.  He hooked an arm around her waist, and zipped them straight up.

She cuffed him on the arm when they landed.  “Warn a girl, would ya?  I almost dropped my clipboard.”

“Uh huh.  What are we doing here?”

“Demand, demand, demand,” she snapped.  “I have half a mind to send you off without getting to see your surprise.”

"Tch."

Bulma giggled and headed toward a room on the far side of the catwalk.  “You two are so cute together.”

“Cu--!”  His entire face went burning hot.  “Shut up.”

Vicki’s face was as scarlet as his probably was, but she didn’t look his way or say anything as she followed Bulma.

Mouthy damn humans!

When he reached the room, Vicki was bent over a desk, typing something into one of the computers.  Bulma was standing next to a mannequin wearing his old chestplate.  The sight of it caught him completely off-guard.

She grinned at him and crooked her finger.  “C’mere.  Let’s see how close we got.”

“How close…what is going on?”

Vicki turned around and cocked her hip against the desk.  “Not very.  He’s almost ready to bust out of the shirts we bought three weeks ago.”

He looked at his shirt.  “I am?"

Bulma giggled. "We'd have to start calling him Hulk Hogan."

Irritation started to build in his chest.  "Who?"

Vicki piped up, "Television wrestler. Rips his shirt off every time he goes into the ring."

Vegeta wrinkled his nose. "Why would he do that?"

She shrugged. "Overinflated machismo?"

Bulma shook her head. "He just wants to show off his boobs."

Vicki smirked. "Well, they are spectacular."

Bulma made a crude gesture with her hands, which made Vicki laugh.

Vegeta looked from her to Bulma, and grimaced.  The two were already feeding off of each other’s energy, and poking at one of his few remaining nerves. “Alright, alright.  What the hell is going on?”

Vicki waved a hand to Bulma.  “It’s your show, lady.”

Bulma opened a nearby wall panel with a flourish.  Behind stood another mannequin, this one wearing a similar chestplate, but without Frieza’s preferred impractically wide pauldrons.  

She rolled it out and cried, “Ta da!  What do you think?”

Vegeta stared at it.  The armour was plain white, and had zero padding.  It appeared to mimic his old plate, but looked far thinner and weaker.  “Is this why my tank still isn’t done?” he asked.

Vicki cleared her throat, and he suddenly realized she was standing right beside him. Anyone who didn't know her might believe her words were merely conversational, but Vegeta could sense the dangerous undercurrent in her calm voice.

“I've been working on this design afterhours, on my own time.  For your benefit.”  She gave him a cool smile.  “Now, what was it you were asking?”

He cleared his throat.  “Uh…I was wondering what inspired you to design this?”

The chill in her eyes didn’t ease, but she walked over to the new armour.  “If the mountain will not come to Mohammed, then Mohammed must come to the mountain,” said Vicki.  “You need armour for…whatever nonsense you’re up to out there.  And I knew of some good designs.  Figured maybe seeing would be believing.”

Bulma smacked him on the arm as she walked past him.  “Don’t be an asshole,” she hissed.  

He bared his teeth at her and returned his attention to Vicki.  He had no idea who Mohammed was, but he got her point.  New armour wasn’t exactly on his list of priorities, but if she was so bound and fucking determined to make him some, he could at least attempt to humour her.  Vegeta walked around the mannequin in a slow circle. “Alright.  Tell me more.”

“It’s a new polymer-blend based on the material from your old plate.”  Vicki tipped her chin toward Bulma.  “Bulma found a way to layer it in microscopic crosshatches that allow the plate to absorb 80% more damage than your previous armour.”

He ran his fingers over the material.  It still felt too thin.  Until he took a few hits, he didn't know if he could trust it. A large screen flashed to life behind the mannequin.  He glanced up to see simulations and numbers flashing on the screen, followed by some of the testing that had been done to the material. A gout of flame blasted it, followed by a battering ram. The plate looked none the worse for wear and, more importantly, the dummy wearing it didn't look harmed.

“Interesting,” he muttered, eying it more closely.

Bulma opened another panel and rolled over another mannequin, this one wearing dark blue pants and a long-sleeved blue top.  White boots and gloves were placed at the base of the mannequin.  “I used a similar polymer blend for these, only softer and more flexible.”

“This stuff isn’t going to tatter the way your previous uniform did.”  Vicki grabbed the sleeve of the shirt and stretched it hard enough that her arms shook from the effort.  “It shouldn’t interfere with your movement, either.”  She pointed to the screen, which had switched to a video showing the uniform undergoing severe testing.  “I put it through a couple other tests.  It held up like a champ under a 1000-degree flame, and seemed to retain 90% of its flexibility when I dropped it to -50 degrees.”

“All that, and it’s all machine washable!” said Bulma.

Vegeta cleared his throat.  “Is it ready for use?  Is that why I’m here today?”

“We’re getting there, but first off, we need to do some measurements to make sure it will fit properly.  Your old plate was just our estimation point.”  She shot a glance at Bulma, who tossed over a measuring tape.  “Arms out.”

He obeyed.  She got in close to circle his chest with the tape, and then his waist.  Her floral scent teased his senses, so he held his breath as she measured his arms and neck.  It didn’t really help, but at least he felt like he was still in control.  She crouched to measure his hips, and then ran the tape from the top of his hip to his ankle.  

Finally she looked up at him.  “Gotta do your thigh and your inseam.”  

“So do it.”

Vegeta realized the reason for her warning when she set the end of the tape uncomfortably high on his inner leg, and down to his inner ankle.  His entire body went rigid against the sensation of her fingers in such a sensitive area.  Moving the tape around the thickest part of his thigh didn’t do any good for his howling hormones.

Vicki, for her part, simply noted the numbers and got to her feet.  “So your chest is broader than we guessed, and I’ll need to account for the padding layer. The plate will fit today, but it'll be almost at its full extension. As I imagine you’re not going to stop training out there, we’ll have to size-up the chestplate before sending you out."

“Sounds like a plan,” he muttered, pleased that he'd gained so much mass, but trying not to show it.

Vicki pulled the chestplate off the mannequin and handed it to him.  “Put it on.  I want to make sure you aren’t getting pinched anywhere.”

He pulled it over his head and shifted around until it felt like it was sitting right.  Before he could do anything else, Vicki was manhandling the vest and him, twisting him to suit whatever she was looking at.  Her hands ran under every edge, and when she was done, she adjusted a few straps and jerked on the shoulder pieces.  

“Move around in it, see how it feels.”

“Demand, demand, demand,” he said, a slight note of mockery in his voice.

“Cute.”  She pushed lightly on his chest.  “Move it, flyboy.”

He took a few steps back and did a quick backflip, followed by a series of kicks and punches that involved twisting and spinning to get a full range of motion. 

Vicki watched as though he were an interesting exhibit at the zoo, and when he stopped, she came over immediately. 

"Chestplate and shirt off."

He lifted a brow. "Shirt too?"

"She wants a good look at your bod," called Bulma with a cackle. 

Vicki's eye twitched and her lips pressed tight. "I want to see if there are any red marks where the armor is rubbing. Might not bother you now, but in a real fight, that could really hamper you."

Vegeta pulled both the plate and shirt off. "It feels fine."

"Uh huh." She lifted both of his arms in turn, and got her face way closer to his stomach than he thought necessary. Then she moved to his back. 

"Uh…Vegeta?"

He glanced over his shoulder to see her staring at his lower back. "What?"

"What is this?" She touched just beside the remains of his tail. The wound had scarred over, leaving just a small, mostly circular patch of fur. 

"That's where I used to have a tail."

"A tail."

"Yes. A tail. 

“Like, a whole actual tail, tail?”

He shot her a dirty look.  “You know I'm an alien, right?"

She gave a short laugh. "Yeah, no, I remember. And now I understand why the backpiece on your original plate seemed to be shorter than it should've been."

Vegeta shrugged. "It was crafted for me before I lost the tail."

Her eyelid twitched, but she seemed to think better of asking for more detail. "Should I adjust it now so that you have better coverage over your kidneys, or is the vestige sensitive?"

He could feel heat rising up the side of his face.  No one had ever asked him that question, and he’d never put a second of thought into it.  Was the stump of his tail sensitive? "I don't know."

"We’re testing anyway, so might as well at least try it with a longer backpiece.”  She grabbed the measuring tape and set it from the nape of his neck to just below the missing tail. “I'm also going to give you a little more room in the pits. You probably don't even feel it yet, but there are two red spots that tell me it's going to rub pretty badly."

He shrugged. "It always pinches there."

Vicki made an impatient sound. "Well, not this time. It should fit like a second skin when we're done."

Bulma came over. "Geez, Vegeta, I didn't know you had that many muscles."

He rolled his eyes and tugged on his shirt. "If you're done, I'd like to get back to training."

Vicki nodded absently as she did a few sketches on her notepad. "Yup."

As he walked away, he heard Bulma say, "So? Did you like what you see?"

He shouldn't have cared about the answer, but he slowed his step so he could listen in anyway. 

Vicki scoffed. "I have eyes, don't I?"

"That's not an answer!"

Vicki didn't say anything. 

Bulma's sharp exhale and retort spoke for Vegeta as well. "Don't you dare leave me hanging, Victoria Trinity!"

The continued silence in response left them both wanting.

Chapter Text

Vegeta let himself hang from his ankles for a moment, stretching along his chest and spine.  One of his vertebrae popped, which was more satisfying than it deserved to be.  He went limp for a moment, then picked up the 50-pound plate and resumed his inverted sit ups.  He was at the 500 mark, and his abs were only now starting to burn slightly.  It had been just over a week without the tank, and he was getting more and more impatient by the minute.

Fucking soft planet with useless gravity.

As he hit 750, he could hear footsteps approaching the gym area.  Vicki came into sight as he lowered himself.

She twisted and tilted so that she was kind of facing him upside down.  “Whatcha doin’?”

“Training,” he said, blowing out a sharp breath as he did another sit up.

“How many have you done?”

“753,” he ground out as he did another.

"How many you going for?"

"1000."

“Alright, Captain Hardcore. Wanna do it with extra gravity?”

He snapped his feet out of the bar and flew in a short flip to land behind her.  “Is it done?”

She turned around.  “Nah, just thought it'd be fun to mess with you.”

Vegeta scowled at her.  “Hilarious.  I’m busy.”

Vicki smirked and punched his chest lightly. “Relax, V. I think it’s done, but I need you to test it for me.  Whenever you’re ready.”

He slammed the plate into its holder. “Now, I’m good now.”

She jammed her hands into her pockets.  “I mean, it’s no rush. You've got your sit-ups to finish, after all."

Vegeta wanted to pull his hair out.  “Let’s go.”

“We can go after you hit a thou--”

He gave a sharp growl.  Her voice cut off on a gasp as he scooped her up and rocket-launched them through the door and across the warehouse in less than two seconds.  When he landed, Vicki was clinging to his neck so tight it was almost hard to breathe.  Her breathing was staccato and her entire body was stiff as a board.

Regret caught up a second later.  He hadn’t intended to scare her, not really.  Just to cut short her nonsense.

He was about to say so when she said through very clearly gritted teeth, “Point taken.”

As she peeled herself off of him, he was suddenly aware of four burning spots of pain along the side of his neck.  He winced and touched the area, and saw blood on his fingertips when he pulled them away.  

Vicki noticed and took a look, tugging his collar to the side.  “Oh dear, looks like someone sank their nails into your neck.”

He gave her a sour look and wiped his fingers on his t-shirt.  “Gee, I wonder who.”

She shrugged and headed into the grav-tank.  “I’d feel bad but, you know. I don’t.”

He pulled a face at her back as he followed her inside.  What he saw froze him in his step. 

Dents still marked the walls and floors, but a fresh coat of pale blue paint had been applied, making the place feel less like a claustrophobic prison cell. Ventilation ports that hadn't existed before were arranged around the sides of the structure, and he could feel the air moving. New lighting had been installed, with a dimmer switch so he could adjust the brightness.  The worn out punching bag had been replaced with a brand new one, as had the speed bag. 

He'd expected the gravity tanks to be working, not a nearly brand new workout space.  Why...why had she put in so much extra effort for something only he was going to use?  “You’ve been busy,” he said, his voice catching in his throat.

Shr shrugged.  "Had a couple days delay on a few of the parts, so I got out the paint. Then I realized how dim the lighting was, and when the new lights were installed, I saw how ratty the equipment was. It just kind of snowballed on me." She shrugged. "But, if you're gonna do it, might as well do it right."

Vegeta started to prowl through the room, looking for other changes.  After a moment, he frowned.  “Where is the keypad?”

Vicki went to the far wall, and hit a switch.  Faint red light began to glow, illuminating the keypad’s new home, flush to one of the walls, where it was out of his way.  He noticed that she’d even taken the time to replace the keypad with something more modern.  A new flat-screen monitor was above the keypad.  Vicki switched it on and a view into the outside hallway appeared.  

"I cannot tell you how many times I ran into that keypad before I wanted to smash it with my bare hands."

He smirked. "I know the feeling."

She grinned. "Well, since I was moving it anyway, I figured, why not upgrade it and add a video monitor? Then people can communicate with you and not interrupt your groove. Oh!" She snapped her fingers. "And I installed an emergency off-switch on the outside too. Just in case."

His initial shock had worn off, bringing him back to his eager tension.  He felt like he was going to explode if he had to wait a minute longer.  “Okay, good.  Great.  Get out.”

She put a hand on her hip and pointed at his face. “Don’t sass me, Saiyan.  Else I won’t tell you about the big surprise.”

He lifted a brow.  “Surprise?”

She smirked and tapped the keypad.  “This thing now goes up to 300 times earth’s gravity.”

It took him a moment to register what she said, then he gave a manic bark of laughter.  “300? ”

“You heard right.”  Her eyes went serious.  “But you have to promise you’re not going to train at that level for more than thirty minutes at a time.  It’s too hard on the tanks.  Better to run at about 200 for the most part.”

“Yeah, sure.” 

Vicki drilled a finger into his chest.  “I mean it, V.  Otherwise I won’t give you the new activation code.”

He put a hand on each of her shoulders and squeezed lightly.  “Okay.  Fine.  I promise.  Can we please test this thing before I die of anticipation?”

Her eyes narrowed, but finally she nodded.  “Okay.  I’m going to wait outside the door.  You let me know how it’s going.”

“Uh huh.”

The door hissed shut behind her, and her face came on the screen.  Vegeta waited impatiently at the pad, nearly bouncing on his toes in excitement.  “What’s the code?”

“1149.”

He punched it in, and the display flashed, asking for his desired level of gravity.  He was about to punch in 300 when Vicki cleared her throat pointedly.

“Start low, alright?  If it works at lower levels, it’ll work at the higher levels.  But if something goes wrong, at least it won’t be a potential death sentence.”

He rolled his eyes.

“I saw that.”

“Good for you.”

“You know, it’s your unending gratitude that really gives me the satisfaction of a job well done,” she said, amusement colouring her voice.

Vegeta could feel the gravity weighing on his shoulders.  “Yeah, yeah.”

“Did you know that all this extra gravity is pushing down your skin and making you look positively ancient?”

He touched his face and felt the deep, false wrinkling.  “No.  There aren’t any mirrors in here.”

"Do you want any?"

"No."

"Fine. Anyway, it's very attractive. You’re gonna be a real fox when you’re an old dude."

"Uh huh."  The display chirped as the gravity settled in at 100.  Each movement and step took more effort, and he could already feel the extra burn in his legs.  Relief flooded through him.  Now he could get real results!

His gut clenched tight. Vicki had gone so far out of her way to make the tank better, probably even putting aside her own work that needed to get done.  Between this and the armor, she'd put in hours of time on his behalf. He didn't understand the kindness, and couldn't help wondering when she was going to throw it all in his face.

“Alright, looks like everything is going to plan.  I’ll leave you two to get reacquainted.  Have fun!”

He looked to the monitor to see her wave. The warmth he'd come to expect to see in her eyes glowed, even though the filter of the camera. Jaded instinct warred with a strange new feeling in his gut. Optimism. He hadn't ever been big on trust or faith, but Vicki hadn't ever misrepresented herself to him. Maybe...maybe there weren't painful strings attached. 

Vegeta staggered to the screen and called, “Hey!  Vicki?”

She turned back.  “Yes, dear?”

He swallowed hard. “Thank you.  Really.”

 A smile touched her lips. “Happy to do it, V.”

Chapter Text

Vicki made her way to the main kitchen right around supper time.  It had already been a long, shitty day, but it wasn’t even half done yet.  She wasn’t particularly hungry, but she needed a drink that wasn’t just water, and her little office fridge was fresh out of orange juice.

It wasn’t until she walked through the kitchen door that she saw the family eating.  Damn.  She hadn’t even thought about them in her blind pursuit for something sugary and liquid, and had no intention of interrupting their meal.  

Mrs. Briefs waved cheerfully from the dining table as she came into the kitchen. "Oh, Vicki dear. Come eat something!"

Her face went hot.  "Sorry, I'm not really hungry right now."

"Are you sure? There's plenty of food!"

"I might eat something later, thank you."

Vegeta was at the table, eating like a starved creature, as usual. If he looked her way, it had been a split second flash she missed when she blinked. Bulma was absent, but Dr. Briefs was there. He waved as well. 

"How goes the battle?"

She dug out a carton of orange juice and poured a glass. "The new water heater is installed. I need to get the venting done."

Doc was about to say something when her phone started to ring. 'Dom' flashed on the screen. She sighed heavily. "I'm sorry, I have to take this."

She accepted the call as she headed for the terrace. "Hey, Dom."

"Yeah, I need you to watch mom for the night."

Vicki gritted her teeth. "I can't. I'm--"

"For fuck's sake, Vicki!" he exploded. 

Waves of humiliation washed through her as she rushed out the door before the rest of Dominic’s tantrum could be overheard. She could feel the eyes of everyone at the dining table burning into her shoulder blades. 

"I never ask for anything, and the one time--"

"I'm in the middle of an emergency repair at work, Dom," she cut in.

"Oh, well, if it's a work thing," he said snidely. "That's so much more important than your mother."

Exhaustion leaned its weight on her shoulders.. "I dunno what to tell you, Dom. See if someone else can help."

"Oh, fuck off," he snapped. “Useless piece of--”

The line went dead. Vicki squeezed the phone in a grip so tight the glass started to creak. Very carefully, she set it on a nearby table and sat down. 

"Yup. That tracks," she muttered to herself.  If he was going to have a meltdown, today would of course be the day.  Why wouldn’t it?  Everything else had gone wrong, from the compound's most vital water heater bursting, to the asshole suppliers that refused to deliver the replacement, to a blown tire on the way back to the compound. She rubbed her forehead and closed her eyes.

"Are you...okay?" asked Vegeta tentatively. 

She jumped and shot him a glance.  When had he followed her outside?  “Yup."

He held a glass toward her.  The orange juice she’d poured, she realized belatedly.  She accepted.  “Thanks.”

"Are you sure?"

Vicki drained the glass and passed it back to him, wiping her mouth with her sleeve, which she didn’t remember was filthy until after the swipe.  "I’m good.  Thank you.”  She got to her feet to head back to the secondary dome. 

His hand landed gently on her shoulder. "Do you need help?"

Vicki turned to face him. His dark eyes were concerned, an expression she hadn't seen on the alien's face before. She forced a smile. "No, I'll be fine. Besides," she said, tapping his shoulder. "You're too big to fit anywhere useful."

A smirk touched his lips right as she realized the unintended double entendre. She could feel her face go white hot. "Uh…thanks for the offer, anyway."

***

The moon was high and bright white as Vegeta stood on top of the tallest dome, looking up at the stars. It had become a nightly habit, one that helped him relax somewhat before he tried to sleep. 

It wasn't working tonight. He hadn't intended to listen in on Vicki's private conversation, only to bring her the juice she’d forgotten.  The man who yelled at her through the phone didn't really give him the choice. 

His fists clenched. Why had he followed? All it accomplished was complicating his already messy feelings regarding the earth woman. Seeing her looking so…hollow...triggered primal instincts he didn't know he possessed. 

A horrible screech of rusted metal interrupted his fretting. Fretting? Prince Vegeta did not fret. 

He turned to see light peeking through a trapdoor on the top of the secondary dome. There was another metallic screech as someone shoved at it from below. 

Vegeta flew across the gap just in time to hear Vicki's heated cursing inside the trapdoor. He was about to help open it when she shouldered into it, repeatedly, violently, until the door squealed fully open. Her teeth were bared as she shoved through and dumped a length of pipe beside the hatch. 

"Want a hand?" he asked. 

She didn't respond, just went back inside. It shouldn't have stung, but it did. 

Vicki reappeared a moment later with her toolbag. She dropped it beside the pipe and climbed out herself.

"I guess not," he said, sarcastically. 

She turned around, saw him, cried out in shock and jerked back a step, then shrieked as she tripped over her toolbag and tumbled toward the open hatch. 

Vegeta phased forward in a blink and caught her up before she could fall more than a couple inches. She clung to him like a baby monkey to its mother, her arms shaking with adrenaline. 

He was about to berate her for ignoring him when he realized he could hear music playing. He set her to her feet, at which point she pulled a small black bud out of each ear, the sources of the music. So she hadn’t been deliberately ignoring him, after all.  The irritation in his guts eased, somewhat.

"What the hell are you doing up here?" she asked, her voice pitchy. Her cheeks had gone scarlet. 

He crossed his arms. "Never mind that. What are you doing?"

"I'm fighting the last length of pipe," she said, waving a hand at it. "Piece of shit doesn't want to fit the chimney. Because of course it doesn't. Why would anything go right today?"

The frustration poured off of her in waves.  Vegeta eyed the pipe, which looked normal to him. "What's wrong with it?" 

"I have no idea. That's why I came out here. Figured maybe I could thread it backwards." She rubbed her grimy forehead, a tic he'd noted became more prominent when she was under stress. 

"Do you want help?"

She looked ready to say no, but then looked inside the hatch, back at him consideringly, then into the hatch. "You know, you might actually fit."

He resisted the urge to preen at yet another remark on his size. "Show me what to do."

Vegeta did his best to hold the pipe steady and then push it upward when asked. As he waited, he gazed down the tight channel the rest of the vent was threaded through. She hadn't exaggerated. His left knee would barely fit in some of those places. How the hell did she squeeze in there? 

"Okay, one more push…"

He shoved upward, and finally the pipe cleared whatever had been blocking its path. 

Vicki gave a mad little laugh of triumph. "Hold it there!"

There was some drilling, shuffling, and cursing from above, then she dropped through the hatch with a small can labeled ‘adhesive’. 

"Hold your breath."

"Why?"

"Because this stuff will get you high as a kite."

Vegeta lifted a brow. "What does that mean?"

"Like getting drunk, but all in your head.”

“What is getting drunk like?”

“I’ll tell you after,” she said, lifting the lid and dabbing some sort of brush into the contents of the can. 

An acrid odor assaulted his sinuses, despite holding his breath. She swiped it around the inside of the pipe he was holding, then guided it to fit into the previous pipe. He had to add a little muscle to get it secure, but then she pointed to the hatch and made a shooing motion with her hand. 

He launched upward and dragged a deep breath of fresh air. The stench of the fluid clung to the inside of his nostrils. 

She heaved out of the hatch and laid on the metal cladding of the roof, flat on her back. He landed in a crouch beside her, trying to ignore the zing of worry that kicked him in the belly. 

"Are you alright?"

Vicki nodded. "I'm just going to die here for a minute. Then I'll get up and finish the job."

Vegeta frowned. "That wasn't it?"

She shook her head. "Gotta test the operation of the tank. Make sure it works."

"And then?"

"And then I'll go have a drink, and cry myself to sleep."

He lifted a brow. "Cry yourself to sleep?"

She gave him a humorless smile. "It was a shitty ass day, Vegeta. You're lucky I'm not crying right now."

Vegeta squirmed. In his experience, crying had always been mocked viciously, and something no one ever admitted to doing, even if they did find a little private corner no one else knew about, and wept until sleep overcame them. Her casual confession was a gut punch. Worse yet, he wanted to do something to stop it from happening. The very thought of her in tears made his stomach churn. 

What the hell was with this woman? Didn't she know there are important things he needed to focus on? He shouldn't be worrying about her tears, he should be planning his rise to power. 

Her hand bumped his knee. "Hello?"

"What?"

"I asked you to give me a hand up."

"Oh." He took hold of her hand and hauled her upright. 

"Thanks," she said, rolling her neck and shoulders back as though they hurt. 

He stuffed his hands in his pockets before they got any foolish notions. "You're welcome."

"You never answered me."

"Answered you what?"

"What are you doing up here?"

Heat started to rise up his neck.  Why he felt shy about admitting to his stargazing habit was beyond him.  "Nothing."

"Okay," she said. He could hear the doubt in her voice. "Well, I'll leave you to get back to your nothing, then."

Vegeta watched her gather her tools and climb into the hatch, hating himself for wanting her to stay, and hating himself more when he didn't stop her from leaving. 

Fate stepped in where he could not when she pulled on the trapdoor and it didn't budge an inch. 

"I think you wrecked it," he said. 

Her cheeks went scarlet. "Oh. My. God. You saw that?"

He nodded. "I was on the main dome when I heard the commotion."

Her shoulders slumped. "You mean my very mature and grown up reaction."

He shrugged. "It was a bad day."

A soft laugh escaped her. "Understatement of the year.  Come on. Help me close this thing, and we'll go have a drink."

"A drink?"

"Yup."

"I'm not thirsty."

Her weary eyes finally brightened. "You wanted to know what it was like to be drunk, didn’t you?"

***

The tank worked, thank Christ. If it hadn't, she really would have burst into inconsolable tears, witnesses or no. 

As they got into the kitchen, Vicki unzipped her coveralls and peeled out of them. Despite them finally drying out after being soaked most of the day, she felt slimy and grimy. A hot shower was going to be pure bliss.

Vegeta went bright red and averted his gaze. "Can you not change behind closed doors like a decent person?" 

She ignored him. "What's your poison?"

He shot her a sharp look. "Poison?"

"Relax. It's a euphemism." She paused. "Although, technically alcohol is poison, I guess."

"You drink poison for recreation?"

"To be fair, it's tasty poison, and it makes the bad things go away for a little while."

"Tch."

She poured them both a shot of whiskey and lifted her glass high. Vegeta cautiously copied her. "To winning the battle," she quipped. 

"To winning the battle," he repeated softly. 

Vicki tossed back the shot, and watched as Vegeta did the same. His face twisted as he swallowed. 

"Ugh. Awful." He made the universal face of a man who needed a chaser. "Why would you willingly drink that?"

She passed him a small glass of water. "Just give it a few minutes."

He chugged the water and wrinkled his nose. "That didn't help."

Vicki poured another shot in his shotglass and offered it to him. 

"Gods no, woman."

She shrugged and tossed it back. It really was terrible, but the warmth blossoming in her chest soothed her frazzled nerves. 

Unfortunately, her brain kept working. The meat computer was overworked and overtired, but in its current state, couldn't shut down. 

"What's wrong now?"

Vicki realized suddenly that she'd made a pitiful sound. "I'm too wired to sleep."

Vegeta lifted a brow. "You look exhausted."

She gave him a sour look. "Gee, thanks."

He looked away, and she looked past his shoulder to the massive pool. Oh, that would be so lovely.  She frowned.  What, exactly, was stopping her from taking a dip?

Vegeta still had a pinched look on his face, but he hadn't bolted immediately after realizing he didn't care for whiskey.  Maybe...

Vicki gathered her exhausted courage.  "Come swimming with me."

His eyes jerked to hers. "What?"

"I said you should come for a swim. With me."

"Why would I do that?"

"Because I asked. Because it's fun. Because you want to. Because it’s hot outside. Because it’s good exercise." She shrugged. "Pick one."

"Do you not have to drive home?"

She shook her head. "I have a suite here for emergencies. Across from your suite, actually."

His cheeks flared red. "How do you know where my room is?"

She smirked. "Who do you think assigned it to you?"

"Bulma."

"Well, I mean, she was the middle man, yeah. But I told her which rooms were available and which one had the best water pressure. You're welcome, by the way."

His brow furrowed and he looked out at the pool. "Swimming," he said slowly, softly.  Like he was actually considering it.

She nodded. "You do know how, right?"

"Of course I know how," he said hotly. 

She held up both hands, palm out. "Alright, alright. Keep your shirt on." Then, with a teasing smile, "Well, actually, you'll probably be more comfortable in the water without it."

"That mouth just never quits, does it?"

"It will if you give me what I want."

His dark eyes met hers, their depths as intimidating as they were beautiful. "And what is it you want?"

She held his gaze with a boldness she was mostly faking. "You. Topless. Wet."

Among other things.

Chapter Text

Somehow or another, Vicki managed to cajole Vegeta into trying more alcohol. He definitively did not care for whiskey or tequila, but he didn’t mind rum so much. There was a mild bit of fuzz in his brain and his face felt heavy, which was a normal reaction to the poison, or so he was told.

Then, Vicki had stripped to nothing but a very brief halter top and skimpy shorts, the indecent woman.  He’d looked away, but too late to avoid seeing her taut stomach muscles, and far, far too late to stop the instant desire that surged through his belly.  It was even harder to resist, thanks to the alcohol’s effects. 

How the hell had the uncouth she-devil convinced him to go swimming?  

She'd jumped in headfirst. He followed more carefully, slipping into the water from the pool edge. He’d never been in a swimming pool before, just natural lakes and the like. The water was the perfect temperature, and he could see clear to the bottom, thanks to lights that lined the pool walls.

Vicki darted around him under the water, her skin flickering and glowing in the underwater lights. She was sleek and lithe, and put him to shame with how quick she could move in the water compared to him. 

She surfaced in front of him and slicked her hair away from her face. "Isn't this nice?" 

It was, but he wasn't going to give her the satisfaction of being right. Not yet, anyway. 

"It's wet."

She flicked water at him. He phased forward a few feet, smirking as the water landed harmlessly behind him. 

Her eyes snapped wider. "How did you do that?"

"Do what? Phase?"

She nodded. 

"It comes naturally to Saiyans, so long as they train."

"Does the hair come naturally, too?"

Pride puffed up his chest.  “Yes.”

She swam forward. "So, what's the deal, spikes? You got some sort of anti-gravity field hidden on your scalp?"

Vegeta laughed. "No, pretty sure I don't."

"It just won't stay down, will it?"

He tried to look up at it, unsuccessfully. "It has a mind of its own, usually."

Her hand reached tentatively toward his head. His chest constricted as she made contact and combed her fingers through his hair. 

"It is so much softer than I thought it would be," she whispered, repeating the action, dragging the pads of her fingers over his scalp. 

Her touch was like a drug. If he wasn't careful, she'd have him purring in her lap like a housecat. 

Which…didn't really seem all that bad.

Her eyes narrowed. "What the hell did you do here?"  She tilted his chin up and smoothed fingers along his jaw. "You're bruised."

Vegeta thought. Probably it was from when his arms failed and the gravity smacked him to the floor face-first. "Nothing serious. Just slipped in training."

"Uh huh." She swam a tight circle around him, touching other marks and making worried noises. "Jesus, V. You need to be more careful."

He shrugged. "Injuries are a part of training."

She made a doubtful sound as she returned in front of him. "Just don't push it too hard, or you won't be able to train at all."

He smirked. "I've never missed a day of training. Not once."

Vicki gave him a wry look. "Okay, Captain Hardcore."

The water drifted them closer together, nearly chest to chest.  He should’ve moved back.  Hell, he should’ve phased all the way across the whole compound.  But damned if he could resist placing a steadying palm against her back, and teasing a wet lock of hair away from her face.

Vicki bit her lip and circled an arm more boldly around his neck.  “You know, one of these days you’ll have to take me for a leisurely cruise in the sky, instead of a rollercoaster ride from hell.”

He laughed softly.  “Stop pushing my buttons, and maybe I’ll consider it.”

Her eyes danced with mischief.  “Oh, come on, Vegeta.  Someone has to take the starch out of your uniform.  Otherwise you’ll keep taking life far too seriously and give yourself a damn ulcer.”

“Maybe I have things that I need to be serious about.”

She traced a finger along his collarbone.  “So?  We all have things to be serious about.  All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy, you know.”

“Maybe Jack just needs to focus better.”

She goosed his ribs, very nearly making him squeak in surprise.  

“Why you little…”  He went to return the favour, but she was gone like a shot, under the water and halfway across the pool.  Vegeta chased after her, but she swam literal circles around him until he phased in front of her and caught her in his arms.  

Vicki gasped in outrage and pushed against his chest.  “Cheater!”

He growled menacingly and held tighter.  “Takes one to know one.”

“I didn’t cheat , I performed a classic hit-and-run.  Just because you weren’t prepared for it, doesn’t mean I was cheating!”

“Semantics.”

“You’re just mad I swim better than you.”

"Am not."

"Are too."

"This is childish."

"I know you are, but what am I?"

Vegeta blinked. "What?"

She giggled. "Just a very immature retort from,  like, kindergarten. Back then it was lethal, man. Kids got stuck in loops for entire recess periods."

The laughter made her eyes dance. He didn't really understand her story, but he wanted her to laugh more. 

She returned an arm around his neck. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Sounds dangerous."

"Maybe. I'm just being snoopy, so you can tell me to bug off."

Vegeta tried not to notice how he hadn't stopped holding her, or how he could pick out slivers of tawny gold in her irises. "Ask," he whispered, his throat dry. 

"What kind of tail did you have?"

He frowned, which made her flinch, which made him wince. "No, it's okay. I'm just surprised you don't know."

"How would I know?"

He shrugged. "Bulma."

"Oh. Nah. I like getting my intel straight from the horse's mouth."

Vegeta tilted his head. "Why would a horse know anything about Saiyans?"

She threw her head back and laughed before pulling him into a hug. He might've been offended if the sound of her laughter and the tight contact with most of her upper body wasn't doing things to his already shaky willpower. 

"Oh, God, Vegeta, sometimes you are so cute."

He gave her a sour look. "I am not cute."

"Sorry dude, 'fraid you're wrong on this one. That was completely adorable."

"Perhaps you could let me in on the joke?" he said tightly. 

Vicki nodded. "Back in the day, people bought and sold horses. You can tell how old a horse is by looking at their teeth. So when you bought a horse, you didn't listen to the seller, you got the age--"

"Straight from the horse's mouth," he finished.

"Knew you were a smart cookie."

He gave her an exasperated look. "How many strange earth sayings are there?"

"Aww, don't be mad." Her dark eyes danced. "Anyway. Your tail?"

"You would compare it to a...monkey's tail, I suppose." He hated that name 'monkey'. It was Frieza's favorite pet name for him, reserved for when he'd been particularly good, or especially defiant. A repetitive cruelty he swallowed, refusing to let that asshole see it get under his skin. 

"So it was long and furry?"

"Yes. Long enough to wrap entirely around my waist."

"Wow. Now I wish I could've seen it."

The fascination in her voice was genuine. And addictive. There was nothing Vegeta loved more than talking about his Saiyan heritage, but most of the time his audience was completely uninterested. Even Kakarot didn't show interest, and it was his fucking culture. 

"Can you tell me more?"

He lifted a brow. "Really?"

"Yes, really."

"Why?"

"Because you're fascinating." Her fingers combed through the hair on the nape of his neck, sending tingles down his back. It was the most pleasant sensation he had ever known.

He knew he should show propriety. Should back off, stop touching her. But he could feel her heartbeat beneath his palm on her back and against his chest, and that was an incredible novelty. 

They floated in unison, their legs and feet occasionally brushing together as they treaded slowly. 

He should let go. 

Should pull away. 

"Vegeta?" Her voice was barely a whisper. 

"Hm?"

Her eyes were pointed skyward. "What's it like up there?"

He followed her gaze to the stars above. "Lonely."

It took a breath to realize what he'd said. The dark confession he'd made so casually. Vegeta stiffened and started to pull away, but her arms tightened. 

"It's okay," she said softly. "You don't have to run."

His eyes fluttered closed.  "I'm not."

"Aren't you?"

He met her eyes, and saw nothing but warmth. "Haven't we had this argument before?"

Vicki pulled him into another hug. "And we'll keep having it until you feel safe to tell me anything."

Safe. There was no such thing. But she felt so soft and sweet wrapped all around him that he allowed himself to sink into the embrace. Just for a moment. 

***

Lonely. 

Vicki knew Vegeta wouldn't accept pity. Would fiercely resent it. But she couldn't help feeling it. How tragic that he'd seen the wonders of the universe, and could only describe it as lonely. 

She stroked the nape of his neck, and Vegeta arched into the contact. Not only was he lonely, he was touch starved beyond all reason. Most likely it was the few shots of booze burning away the outer layers of his emotional walls, and he was probably going to hate having been even the slightest bit vulnerable in the morning.

Vicki knew she should pull back. The man could barely stand to see her in a tank top when he wasn't drunk. 'Indecent', she'd heard him mutter. And now they were tangled together, their hearts thumping in near unison. Vegeta was practically purring from the simple pleasure of being held.  Vicki couldn't bring herself to stop. To leave him feeling alone again. 

The waves pushed them apart slightly, and their eyes met. It was a perfect movie-kiss moment, complete with his hand curving gently over her jaw. They stood at the precipice, poised for the best possible ending to the worst possible day. 

And Vicki whispered, "Stop," hating herself for saying anything at all. 

His face twisted with fury and humiliation. She caught his shoulders before he could pull away. "It isn't that I don't want to," she said. "I very, very much want to."

"Then what?" he said through clenched teeth. Every muscle that had been softened a breath ago was hard as granite again. 

"We've been drinking."

"And?"

She rubbed her forehead. "Twenty minutes ago you were blushing over seeing me in shorts and a bra."

He looked away.  Vicki reached over tentatively and, when he didn't rebuff her, guided him to face her again. 

"Alcohol strips away inhibitions. Current Vegeta might think everything is cool, but Morning Vegeta might not agree. I value your friendship far too much to risk wrecking it by pushing too far while you're under the influence."

Vegeta frowned and pulled away, emotional walls fully reinstated. "Fine."

Her stomach twisted. Why did she always have to ruin things between them before they even got started? 

Chapter Text

Hot water sluiced through her hair and down her body, rinsing off the shampoo and the chlorine and the bullshit of the day. Vicki's eyes burned with exhaustion, but a smile still touched her lips. Despite the awkward ending to the night, she'd finally gotten to see a softer side of Vegeta. His stoic walls had fallen away just a little, making him amiable and sweet.

Good thing he wasn't always like that. She'd be in much bigger trouble with her foolish crush if the alien was objectively likable.

Vicki shook her head. Of all the people to grow feelings for, why did she have to pick him? Darren had been a nice man. Why not fall for him? Or Lance, with his sparkling blue eyes and great sense of humour. Why go for the hard-body crankpot from outer space?

Oh, and what a body it was. What a damn shame she'd chosen to feed him alcohol. They might've wound up in much more pleasant circumstances otherwise. A warm tingle built in her belly and drifted lower as she recalled pressing close to those chiseled muscles.

Vicki let out a sharp breath and shook her head.  However it happened, he was under her skin in the worst way.  Except now he was angry at her for rejecting him, even though it wasn't a true rejection. His stubborn pride had been wounded, and it was doubtful he’d come anywhere near her unless he desperately needed something.

Damn shame.

She turned off the water and climbed out of the shower.  The towel was toasty warm thanks to the heated towel bar.  Vicki decided there wasn’t anything more wonderful on earth than wrapping up in a heated towel after a shower, and vowed to buy one for her apartment.

As she reached for her lotion, a black spot on the counter suddenly sprouted legs and scooted away from her reach.

Vicki screeched at the top of her lungs and bolted out of the bathroom. A few seconds later, her main door bashed inward, and Vegeta was there, fists glowing brilliant white.

"What? What is it?" he shouted.

"Get it out get it out get it out," she babbled, pointing at the bathroom.

He lunged into the room, only to turn around with a strange look on his face. "There's nothing in here."

She cowered from the other side of the room. "There's a spider in there."

His eyes widened. "A spider?"

"Just shut up and get rid of it!"

Vegeta scoffed and went into the bathroom. A second later, the toilet flushed and he returned to the main room. 

"Is it gone?"

"Yes."

Her body went limp with relief, followed immediately by complete and utter humiliation. She couldn't help her response to spiders any more than the sun could help shining, but that didn't mean she couldn't regret her foolishness in the aftermath.

He leaned on the wall.  His dark eyes danced with amusement. "Really?"

"Yeah, yeah. Yuk it up," she muttered, awkwardly re-securing her towel. Her eyes hit the door, and she gave a piteous moan. "Dude.  You broke my door."

"You screamed like a murderer was in the room with you."

Her skin crawled, and she gave a full body shiver. "There was. An eight-legged one."

Vegeta scoffed and pushed away from the wall. "It was barely the size of my pinkie nail."

Vicki scowled at him. "Yeah, okay. Go away now."

"You sure you can manage getting to bed without incident?"

"Ha ha. You're hilarious. Get out."

His eyes dragged from her toes to her face. "I mean, you can always stay in my room if you feel unsafe in this one."

Her mouth went dry as she returned his salacious gaze. His hair was still wet, and he smelled of freshly rinsed shampoo.  Apparently she wasn’t the only one using the shower.  Every inch of him was cut muscle coated in skin that looked like satin. A few beads of water sparkled on his chest and abs.  She wanted to lick him dry. To follow the thin black trail of hair from his navel down past the waistband of his boxers, which were snug enough that she could make a decent guess at the stunning cock waiting for her viewing and tasting pleasure.

Temptation burned in her belly. It had been two hours since they took those shots. Was this the real Vegeta? Or still the emboldened drunk Vegeta?

He stepped closer, his eyes holding hers. "Well?"

Vicki reached over and traced the back of her finger up his sternum. "You wouldn't know what to do with me if I did take you up on that offer."

***

Vegeta crushed Vicki to his chest. "Always something to say."

She opened her mouth to retort.  Of course she did. That's what he liked best about her. But right now, he was intent on tasting her lips and burying his hands into her hair. Her words died as their mouths met.

The first contact was better than he could've dreamed. Soft, warm, and perfectly inviting. Vicki gave a sweet little sigh and melted against him, her fingers curving up over the swell of his chest and behind his neck.

The silky cloud of hair made him swoon. He couldn't remember anything so luscious running through his fingers.

Vegeta tightened his grip in her hair and kissed her harder, sliding his tongue along the curve of her lower lip. She met his tongue with hers, coy at first, then tangling in the most erotic dance.

She pulled away, her warm eyes promising everything he never dared to wish for. Her hand took his and pulled, and they glided effortlessly together.

Vegeta’s heart pounded as his brain tried to take his mental filth to the next level, but all he could think about was the woman across the hall. Less than twenty steps away, and he was lying in bed with an aching hard-on. Alone.

Should've called her damn bluff instead of scurrying back to the safety of his room like a goddamn coward.

***

Vicki smoothed her hands over Vegeta’s pecs and moved down to the deliciousness that was the taut lines of his abs. His Adonis belt was so well defined it was like a neon sign pointing to his crotch. She did not need directions.

She went to lower to her knees, only to slip.

Vicki jolted awake right as her dream-self contacted the floor. She was flat on her back, sheets twisted around her body, and panting near the edge of climax. A dull throb between her legs begged for attention.

Her eyes moved to the door. It was currently blocked in place with a strategically placed chair. Easy enough to move. Only a few more steps would have her at Vegeta’s door. 

By now he had to be sober.

But would he still want her? He'd gone fiery red before stammering out something that sounded like 'good night' and bolted back to his room without a backward glance. Certainly no genuine invitation to follow had been offered.

Vicki shifted and the bedsheets dragged across her pussy. Wonderful sparks flooded through her belly. Her back arched at the  unexpected sensation, and she was right back to feeling like a desperate slut.

She looked at the door. Would it ruin everything if she knocked?

***

Vegeta made a tight fist and tried to ignore the incessant pulsing in his cock. The mental images of Vicki still lingered in his head, stoking the relentless need.

It was improper of him to behave like this. There were more important things to focus on than a pretty woman who made him want  things he'd never thought twice about in his entire life.

The memory of her fingers combing through his hair played unbidden, sending a shiver through his belly. If a sensation so simple was that pleasant, how incredible would it feel to have her--

Stop it!

But he couldn't. His hips instinctively bucked at just the thought of being inside her.

How long had it been? His experience was woefully scant, but Frieza was smart enough to realize all the beatings in the world would never override biological urges. There were plenty of outposts with brothels, and time was given to his soldiers to partake.

Vegeta rarely joined. The few times he did were only because his loneliness had become crippling, and he needed something to break that downward spiral before he completely cracked and revealed his weakness to the rest of the force.

He really only remembered his first visit. It was late, by his design. Late enough that most of the force would be long gone and readying for departure, leaving him the illusion of privacy and just enough time to get in, get off, and get out. To sate his curiosity and decide for himself if this was something he wanted more of in the future.

The Brench-seijin girl was the only choice close enough in physiology that it didn't feel like a complete betrayal of his Saiyan heritage. Her scarlet skin didn't excite him, but it was objectively pretty. She was kind to him during his first time. Didn't laugh or poke fun at his fumbling. It had been a pleasant experience. Relaxing in a way he hadn't expected.

Aside from that first visit, the act of sex had only ever felt like a perfunctory performance. It felt good to get off, to have that release. Having some skin-on-skin contact made him feel less alone, even if the hired girls rarely touched anything that wasn't his cock. It was never enough, but it took away the sharp edges that threatened to tear him apart from the inside out.

Vicki's affectionate touch replayed through his head. He'd already been dangerously obsessed with thoughts of her, but now he had so much potent fuel that the flames threatened to roar out of control.

His cock throbbed in protest. Vegeta groaned and dragged his hands through his hair. What gave this woman the right to be so deep in his head?

He was just reaching down to slake the recalcitrant desire when a soft tap reached his ears. Vegeta sat bolt upright, staring at the door.

Another tap.

Vegeta fought to keep his head on straight, but the desire he’d been fighting broke loose and trounced all of his logic, leaving it bleeding in the dirt.

He was a man.

She was a woman.

And he wanted her.

Damn the consequences.

Chapter Text

Vegeta was at the door before the soft sound faded. It slid open to reveal Vicki, her hair a disastrous mass of unruly dark curls. The indecent creature wore next to nothing, and her face and chest were flushed.

"I'm sorry. You were probably sleeping--"

"Shut up," he hissed, dragging her into his arms and kissing her like he'd been dying to do for weeks.

Her lips were silky and warm, and she responded like she wanted to kiss him.  Like she’d been dying for this as much as he was.  Her arms wrapped around his neck and she pressed tight to him.  The sensation of her body against his was even better than in the pool.

And her hair.  Oh fuck, her hair.  He finally had it in his hands.  It was so much thicker and softer than he could have ever dreamed.  A gift from the gods themselves.  Vegeta buried both hands up to the wrist and groaned against her mouth.

Vicki returned the favour, sending tingles down his spine as her fingers dragged over his scalp. "You have the best hair," she whispered between hungry kisses.

Vegeta gave a short laugh. "Was about to say the same thing to you."

"You know what they say," she said, pushing him inside the room a few steps. "Great minds think alike."

The door snapped closed behind them.  "They do, do they?"

She nodded and gripped the hem of her tiny tank top. Before he knew it, the thin scrap of cloth was gone, leaving her stunning tits bared.

Words failed him as he drank in the sight. Unlike the golden skin of her arms, stomach, and legs, the skin on her tits was pale and creamy. He didn't know why, but coloration differences began along very defined lines that looked suspiciously like clothing.

Her nipples were another sharp contrast. The deep rosy pink flesh was hard and instinctively inviting to his mouth.

Vicki smiled. "Isn't this where you tell me how indecent I am?"

He dragged his eyes up to hers. "I had no idea you were going to be this beautiful."

Scarlet washed across her face and down her throat. "Well, I had no idea you had such a silver tongue."

Vegeta frowned. "My tongue is not silver."

Vicki laughed softly and circled her arms around his neck, pressing her wonderfully hard nipples against his chest. "It means you're charming. More charming than I expected, actually."

He tilted his head. "Why is that so surprising?"

She put her hands on her hips and lifted her chin imperiously.  “Servant woman, I require immediate assistance.”

Heat washed over his entire body at the memory of his first words to her, but when she started to laugh, he couldn’t help but join her.

“That is not what I sound like,” he protested when he caught his breath.

“Oh really?  Then how do you sound?”

He lowered his voice to a threatening rasp and stepped closer.  “Servant woman, I require immediate assistance.”

Vicki smiled coyly and kissed his cheek.  “You know I live to serve.”

Fuck.  She was better than any dream his sorry imagination could come up with.

Vegeta slid his palms up her sides and brushed his fingers along the edges of her perfect tits. She arched into him with a needy, breathy sound that made his primal side howl with approval. He moved more boldly, tracing his thumbs firmly over those hard peaks.

Her hands moved to his stomach. "Fuck these abs are gorgeous," she whispered, tracing each line and ridge, one by one.

"Such vulgarity," he murmured against her lips.

She pulled back a few inches, a challenging smirk to her face. "You think that's vulgar, Saiyan?"

His mouth went dry as Vicki pushed his back against a wall.

***

Vicki couldn’t believe her luck.  She had anticipated irritation at best, vitriol at worst, and got unabashed desire instead.  It was heady and addictive.

“Vegeta,” she whispered, “Can I ask you a question?”

He swallowed audibly as she took a languid taste of the skin at the base of his throat.  “Ask,” he said, a tremor in his low voice.

She paused.  “You’re a prince, right?”

He stiffened.  “Yes,” he said.  Slowly, cautiously.

“So, what’s the proper honorific for a prince?”

“What do you mean?”

Vicki traced her lips along a scar on his shoulder.  “I mean, is it ‘Your Grace’, ‘My Lord’, ‘Your Royal Highness’?”

Vegeta pushed her back a step, his brows pinched tightly. “Why?”

“Because I’m about to worship your cock.  Figured I’d better use the proper honorific while I was at it.”  She set her palm over his heart.  “Unless you don’t want me to.  That’s okay, too.”

Red was spreading across his face, neck, and chest, but there was a hungry look burning in his beautiful, dark eyes. “They always called me ‘Your Highness’.”

She stole a kiss from his lips, then slowly made her way downward, kissing and licking the satiny skin she’d been fantasizing about for far too long. Goosebumps rose in the wake of every touch, and his breath was getting faster the lower she went.

Vicki finally took mercy and settled to her knees.  Placing her palms lightly on his thighs, she looked up at him through her lashes.  “May I worship your cock, Your Highness?”

A low growl erupted from his belly.  “You may,” he said hoarsely.

Vicki hooked her fingers into the elastic waistband and dragged the thin back fabric out of her way.  His cock sprang free, and she gave a happy sigh as her prediction was proven true.  His cock was stunning.  Thick and hard as nails, and sure to hit every spot just right.  It was impossible to resist sliding her hand over the silky skin of his shaft and gently pulling back his foreskin to trace her fingers over the head of his cock.

He groaned helplessly at just that scant touch, his abs flexing and his hands balling into fists.

She bent forward and dragged her tongue in a thick, wet stripe from the base of his cock to the head.  His scent was deliciously musky with the faintest hint of sweat.  By the time she swirled her tongue around the head of his cock, they were both making obscene sounds.

Her pussy throbbed with neglect as she took her sweet time tasting every inch of his cock.  Vegeta had begun to speak in tongues or, more likely, some language she didn’t know.  Probably Saiyan.  Doubtful he even knew he was doing it.  When she finally took him into her mouth and took a long, pulling suck, his knees started to shake and he curled into her with a shuddering gasp.

The man was pure muscle and steel.  Easily the most powerful person she'd ever known. Probably the most powerful person on earth.  And he was absolute putty in her hands.  Vicki reveled in the power she had over all that might, in her ability to turn him into a puddle of desire.  She looked up at him again, and saw that his eyes were squeezed shut, and his hands had started to tremble from the effort of holding such tight fists.

Vicki released him from her mouth and put her hands to work in its stead. "Does that feel good, Prince Vegeta?"

He made a positive sound from his throat and nodded.

"May I please make you come with my mouth, your highness?"

He nodded more frantically.

Vicki drew him deeper into her mouth, and made a hungry sound of her own.  His hips bucked into the sensation, and he gave a sharp groan, followed by a low, sustained rumbling from the middle of his chest.  It took a moment to realize that he was purring, and a boatload of self control not to coo at just how freakin' adorable it was.

Vicki dragged her nails lightly up the inside of his heavily muscled thighs, and cupped his balls.  He tried to say something, but she could already feel the impossibly quick flutter of muscles in his belly.  Could tell he was about to completely come undone.  She made a long, pleased sound and turned her eyes to his just in time to see them roll back in his skull.

Then he was convulsing, painting the back of her throat with his seed.  Vicki stroked him with her mouth until the pulsing eased, then slowly released him.  That low rumble came back, somewhat disjointed between his sharp breaths, but distinctively a purr.  As she rose to her feet, his eyes met hers.  If she didn’t know better, she’d have thought someone had drugged him.  But no, it was just the bliss from the afterglow she gave him.

“What the fuck , woman?” he asked, his voice unsteady.

Vicki smiled and caressed his cheek.  “Been a while?”

He shook his head.  “No one…no one has ever done that to me.”

She couldn’t help the dismayed look that came to her face.  “Are you serious?”

He grimaced as red washed through his cheeks.  “Okay, don’t ruin it with pity.”

“Can't help it,” she said, curving her palms over his pecs.  “Neglecting a cock this gorgeous is criminal. Oughta be a law against it.”

Vegeta rolled his eyes, but she could see the pleased smile fighting for freedom.  He bit his lip and traced a finger through her hair.  “Is it…” He stopped and looked away, more red flaring through his face.  “Is it customary to return the favour?”

Vicki caught his hand and kissed his palm.  “Only if you really want to.  Otherwise--”

“Oh, I want to.  I very much want to.  I am just…”  He finally met her eyes.  “I have never…done such a thing.”

She curled her arms around his neck.  “I’m happy to teach, if you want to learn.”

Chapter Text

Vegeta was still tingling all over.  He had no idea that a person could perform such an act with their mouth, nor that anyone would want to do it to him.  Vicki’s generosity had him by the short hairs, and he was in grave danger of losing himself to the earth woman.

He should’ve felt alarmed, but all he could do was think about making her fall apart the way she’d made him fall to pieces.

Vicki guided them to the bed.  Before she could sit, he caught her up in his arms and carried her to the center of the bed. As he laid her down, her hair pillowed out around her head, the sight giving him heart palpitations.  The audacity of the woman. How dare she be so damn desirable?

He crawled over her and pressed a kiss just above her navel before returning to her mouth.  The wet slide of their tongues together was another new sensation, one he enjoyed thoroughly.  But there were new temptations to try, starting with the prettiest tits he had ever seen in his life.

She gave a soft whimper as he traced his tongue over the straining tip of her nipple.  As he closed his lips around it and worried it gently with his teeth, Vicki’s hand clawed through his hair and her breathing went sharp.

Vegeta spent an inordinate amount of time toying with each nipple, reveling in her unabashed enjoyment of his touch.  Especially when her hips started to writhe against his, seemingly beyond her control.

After a particularly firm thrust against his hardening cock, his control started to slip.  Before she could further undo his progress, he moved lower, marvelling at how soft she seemed on the surface despite the firm core muscles he could feel when he ran his palm over her belly.  The lower he went, the more an incredible scent started to fill his senses.

When he reached the lacy band of her extremely brief underwear, her fingers combed through his hair.  “Before we get any further, I’d like to manage your expectations.”

He looked up to her dark eyes.  “Explain.”

She sighed.  “Sometimes, no matter how hard someone tries, oral sex just doesn’t make me climax.  It has nothing to do with the partner, it’s just the way I’m wired.  So if it doesn’t happen, please don’t be offended.”

Vegeta kissed the skin just above the lacy strip and said softly, “Challenge accepted.”

“That’s not what I--”  Her words broke on a shuddering gasp when he pulled the tiny scrap of fabric down her legs.

The delicious fragrance washed over him tenfold, setting off a satisfying purr from deep within his chest.  It had been so damn long since that instinctive reaction happened that he had almost jumped when it kicked in during the incredible things she did to his cock with her mouth. The sensation and sound was as deeply comforting as the warm scent of her was arousing. He'd almost forgotten how wonderful it felt.

Vegeta finally let his eyes fall upon the apex of her muscled thighs. Much like her pretty tits, the skin surrounding her sex was pale in comparison to the skin on her belly, the color change happening on a distinct line that looked oddly similar to the underwear he'd just gotten rid of. Soft folds gathered along the very center of her, glistening pink satin that his fingers begged to touch.

Of course he’d seen female parts and knew the mechanics of where which parts fit together.  But he’d never been allowed to freely put any part of him anywhere near those delicate areas.  The women handled the insertion, and he handled the thrusting.  Simple, easy.

Boring, in retrospect.

As he watched, the indecent woman’s hand slid down, tracing over herself and spreading those pearly-pink lips.  He had to restrain himself from swatting those fingers away and snarling possessively.

“This is my clit,” she said, circling her fingers over a tiny bud at the top of the gleaming line of her.  “Most of my pleasure will be received through this little part.”

Vegeta nodded, impatient for the anatomy lesson to be done so that he could get his hands on her.

Her fingers moved lower and sank inside herself.  Her breath caught at just that gentle invasion, making his belly clench in anticipation of causing that reaction himself.  “And this is the vagina, where the main event goes down.  You can also use your fingers, but take your time getting there.”

When she removed her fingers, they were shiny with her own wetness, and bearing the richest scent he’d ever had the privilege to smell.  Before she could move too far, he caught her hand and brought her fingers to his mouth to taste.  The salty slick hit switches of arousal in his body he had no clue existed, and the purring turned to hungry growling.  He sucked them clean, but only wanted more.  Needed more.

Vicki gave a little cry of surprise when he bent down and slid his tongue boldly, strong laps, tasting every inch of her.  Her fingers dragged into his hair and gripped.  Not directing, just holding firm.  It was better than any fantasy he’d ever conjured in his life.

When he’d somewhat sated the immediate need of tasting her, he moved to the tiny nub of flesh she called the clit.  As he neared it, her fingers tightened against his scalp.

“Gentle,” she whispered.  “Light licks to start.”

Vegeta instinctively bristled at being told what to do, but throttled the desire to defy her.  He was rewarded with a soft moan as he traced just the tip of his tongue over her clit.  “Like that?” he whispered.

“Y-yes,” she stuttered as he repeated the action.  One of her legs hooked over his shoulder, the weight and sensation of her skin on his adding to the already overwhelming delight buzzing through his belly. The purring returned without any input from the thinking parts of his brain.

He would’ve never guessed how very little stimulation would have her breathing heavier and more of that luscious fluid dripping down her slit.  His hands felt unoccupied, so he reached one up to toy with her perfect tits, which earned him a thrust against his face.

Once he had sorted out the level of pressure she liked best, Vegeta started to experiment with other kinds of movement.  Whatever got a positive reaction, he kept doing until she wasn't as responsive or asked for something different.  Vicki didn’t react much to circles or flicks, but she melted when he changed to a flat tongue with firmer pressure. And when he sucked on her clit, she fairly broke her own back from arching into his mouth.

A droplet of her fluid started to fall to the bed, which would’ve been a terrible waste.  He caught it with his finger and sucked it clean. The need for more left him unable to resist laving his tongue all along her slit with a groan.

Vicki groaned right along with him, and gripped his hair tighter.  “Put a finger inside me.”

This time he did defy her.  “Is that how you ask your prince?”

Fuck.  Where the hell did that come from?

There was a desperate little cry as her hips writhed impatiently.  “Please.  Please put a finger inside me.”

He turned his face into her soft inner thigh and took a light nip.  “You can do better than that, woman.”

She whimpered and clutched at his hair.  “Please, your highness.  Please put a finger inside me.”

If Vegeta thought he was aroused before, he was sorely mistaken.  Every part of his being demanded that he fill her with his cock and fuck her to completion.  It took all of his self control to stay where he was, and grant her desire for just a finger.

She whined desperately as he slowly inserted one finger to the knuckle.  The heat and pulse surrounding his finger made it nearly impossible, but somehow he managed to smirk up at her flushed face and say drily, “You said to take my time.”

“Fuck you, Saiyan,” she said on a low moan, her eyes sparkling with humour that cut the sting out the insult.

He wasn’t strong enough to maintain his cool act.  To hide it, he returned his mouth to her clit.  The combination of his finger stroking her from inside and his tongue slicking over her clit had her entire body trembling and whimpered pleas pouring from her pretty lips.

Soon there were no more coherent instructions, just ‘yeses’, ‘pleases’, and ‘so closes’.  When he experimentally added a second finger inside her tight channel, she gave a throaty cry and shuddered.  Vegeta growled in triumph as she cried out his name.

Suddenly the muscles surrounding his fingers were fluttering wildly, and she was wracked by tremors from head to toe.  Vegeta rode through it until her legs started to clamp closed and she pushed lightly on his head.

He rose on his knees and licked his fingers clean.

Vicki stared up at him, her chest heaving.  “As fucking if you’ve never done that.”

Vegeta lifted a brow.  “You challenged me.  What did you expect?”

Chapter Text

Vicki was, simply put, stunned.  Most of the men she'd had the misfortune to get in bed with were bored or annoyed by how difficult she could be to bring to orgasm via foreplay.  She’d fully expected the alien to get impatient and demand they move onto fucking, but he’d slowly built her to a crescendo that was still echoing through her nervous system.

Dangerous man.

He was still reared back, a smug look on his aristocratic features.  She hadn’t expected him to remain cautious.  That just wasn’t Vegeta’s style.  But holy mother of Moses, she would never have guessed that he’d fall right into a cocky, dominating role so easily.

One of his hands smoothed over the back of her knee.  “Are you going to live?”

She nodded.  “I think so.”

“That’s good.  Because I’m pretty sure there’s supposed to be more.”

A little moan escaped her.  “Yup.  Yup there is.”

He crawled over her, and settled his weight over her hips, his rock-hard cock trapped between their bodies.  Vicki caressed his cheek, and smiled when he closed his eyes and pressed into the contact.  That soft rumble from his mid-chest returned.

“Did you know you purr?”

His eyes popped open.  “Do you not?”

She shook her head.  “I mean, I can fake it, kind of.  But nothing like you.”

“Shame,” he whispered as his lips brushed against hers.

Vicki pulled him closer and deepened the kiss. Vegeta let her take the lead for just a moment, then he was tugging her head back and kissing and sucking at her throat before returning to her lips.

He shifted his hips to line his cock with her pussy, and one solitary brain cell screeched in warning. She blocked him and put a hand on his chest. "Wait," she gasped.

His entire body was shaking. "What now?"

"Do you have protection?"

Vegeta stared at her. "Do I have what?"

"Protection. You know, condoms?"

He tilted his head. "What the fuck are those?"

Vicki clapped a palm to her forehead. "Alien. Right." She scooted out from under him, stopping to kiss him when his face contorted with irritation and confusion. "Hold that thought."  

Before he could say anything, she scurried to his bathroom to grab… shit! "Where the hell are the clothes you were wearing today?"

"Down the laundry chute. Why?"

She gave an exasperated huff and snatched up a towel instead, wrapping it around herself and fairly sprinting to the door.

"Just wait!" she called over her shoulder.

Vicki normally did well under pressure. But normal pressure didn't usually include making an alien wait. A generous alien with the most gorgeous body she'd ever put her tongue on. When her hands shook too hard to sift through the contents of her purse like a rational human being, she dumped the whole damn thing on the bed and snatched up the strip of condoms from the pile of stuff, thanking all the gods that ever existed that she actually had them with her.

Vegeta had turned onto a hip as he waited, his cock still deliciously erect. Confused irritation still burned in his eyes. "Care to enlighten me?"

She held up the strip of foil packets. "These are condoms."

"And?"

Vicki sat beside him. "We use them to prevent unwanted pregnancy."

His eyes snapped wide, and his chest started to heave slightly. "Pregnancy?"

"Easy, big guy." She smoothed her fingers along his jaw. "I got you. No need to freak out."

"I'm not--"

She kissed him softly, and felt the moment he relaxed and started to respond again. "Let me show you how they work."

***

Suitably ‘protected’, Vegeta pressed Vicki back to the bed.  “No more interruptions, if you don’t mind,” he whispered in her ear.

She hooked a leg over his hip and pressed him tighter against her body.  “Then get on with it, Saiyan.”

“Such insolence,” he hissed, nipping her earlobe.

Her hips ground against his, making his breath catch in his throat.  He shifted slightly and slid a hand between them to guide his cock forward, groaning at how wet she’d gotten.  His cock ached to be buried inside her, so he didn’t waste another second.

That first thrust nearly did him in, but then she was stopping him again.  “Why?”

She put a hand on his cheek.  “Just breathe with me for a second.  In, and out.”

Vegeta closed his eyes, fighting the urge to thrust with abandon.  As he breathed in time with her breath, he slowly realized that their pulse was starting to synchronize, and soon he could feel the same throb in his cock as he felt from within her body.

Vicki let out a long, contented sigh.  “My favorite thing.”

He’d never experienced anything so intensely intimate, but the instinctive urge to move started to hammer at his brain.  As he slowly withdrew and thrust forward again, she gave a long, rattling moan and clutched at his back.

“Oh, I knew you were going to feel good, my prince,” she whispered, her breath hot against his neck.  “But you’re even better than I imagined.”

…than I imagined. 

She imagined him?

He started to move faster, but she scraped her fingers along his scalp and whispered, “No need to hurry, my Prince.”

“You’re killin’ me, woman,” he rasped, fighting to slow down, and failing.

Vicki smoothed her hands over his back and ass, then back up his spine.  As she dragged her fingers along the stump of his tail, Vegeta couldn’t stop a sudden yelp of pleasure.  He buried his face in her neck as hard tremors rocked through his body.

“Oh no,” she said, jerking her hand away.  “Oh god, I’m sorry, I should’ve ask--”

He shook his head sharply and groaned, “So fuggin' good.”

Eloquent. Truly, you are a regal creature.

"Really?" she breathed. Vicki’s fingers returned to the vestige, stroking slowly.  First with the grain, then against it.  Both sent electricity shooting through his body and out through his cock.  He shuddered and moaned, helpless to do anything against the onslaught of sensation.

"Oh sweetheart, yes," she whispered in his ear, overwhelming his nervous system even further. Her touch quickened and turned to a firm kneading, making every muscle in his body clench immediately before he came, shamefully quickly.

Vegeta could barely look her in the eye when he finally managed to lift his head up.  She was tracing her hands in soothing patterns all across his back, but he didn’t deserve the comfort.  He’d left her wanting in the worst way.

“Hey,” she said softly.

He winced and looked away.

Her hand dug into his hair and turned him to face her.  “Your shame monster can fuck right off,” she said, a fierce glow in her eyes.

Vegeta frowned.  “My what?”

“Your shame monster.  I can see it in your eyes that you think there’s something wrong with how quickly you came.  Let me make something crystal clear.”  She gripped his chin and brought him nose-to-nose.  “That was the hottest thing I have ever seen.  Don’t you dare let your pride get in the way of enjoying that afterglow.  You deserve to feel that incredible.”

“But you didn’t--”

“Are you telling me that you, Prince motherfucking Vegeta, aren’t gonna be able to get hard again?”

Vegeta could feel heat washing through his face just as quickly as his ego rallied.  “No.  But it won’t be instant.”

“Uh huh. Are your fingers broken?”

A throb kicked back to life in his lower belly.  “No.  They aren’t.”

Vicki gave him a wicked smile.  “Well, don’t just lay there, looking pretty.”

Chapter Text

Vicki could barely breathe.  Vegeta, it seemed, was intent on murdering her with orgasms.  Not a problem she ever thought she’d have, but here she was.  Dying with a man’s mouth latched to her clit.

“Stop, stop,” she protested weakly.

Vegeta looked up at her through his thick, dark lashes and made a negative sound in his throat.  Every muscle in her body twitched helplessly as he continued to stroke her clit with his tongue and her g-spot with two nimble fingers.  She was on the verge of coming before she knew it, and fell over the edge when he sucked her clit between his delicious lips.

Finally the relentless alien reared back and looked down on her wrecked form.  Vicki panted as she came back down, everything over-sensitive and bright.

He finished sucking his fingers clean and bent down to kiss her on the mouth.  “Would you like me to fuck you now?” he asked, his purr kicking in.

Vicki nodded, her head full of fuzzy clouds.  “Can’t wait,” she mumbled.

The sound of him fumbling for a moment before foil tore made her heart warm.  It was nice to know she could trust him with something so deeply important.

Vegeta crawled over her and traced the pad of his thumb over her cheek bone.  “Do you need to recover?”

She didn’t think it was possible to remain so completely turned on, but her entire body ached with want.  “No, my prince. Please fuck my pussy.”

Vegeta paused and made a funny face. “Fuck your what?”

Vicki gave a lazy smirk and waved a hand in a circle over her nethers.  “One of the many nicknames for a lady’s downstairs.”

“You humans and your need to over-name things,” he muttered.

“Yeah, yeah.  Just put your meat-stick in me, already.”

He scowled.  “Only if you promise to never ever use that term in conjunction with my cock ever again, ever.”

“Fine.  Stick me with your manhood.  Your dick.  Meat wand. Tallywhacker.  Dink.  Your turgid love weapon.  Or, my personal favourite?”

His face contorted tighter and tighter until she said in the sexiest voice she could muster, “Your doodle.”

A snort of laughter betrayed him, then they were both giggling like mad people.  “What a ridiculous species you are,” he gasped.

Fuck, was he pretty when he laughed.  Vicki kissed his lips, then a trail toward his ear, where she whispered, “Yeah, but I get the feeling you like it.”

“Tch.”

It took them both a few minutes to get back into the moment, but once they did, it was all hunger and desperation.  Vegeta fucked her perfectly, taking the time to occasionally let her enjoy the stretch of his cock in stillness, and to pound her hard and steady enough that her brains rattled so loose getting off was hardly any effort at all.  She was going to be sore in the morning for many reasons, but the best one was the man giving his all to make sure she was satisfied too.

Finally his thrusts started to lose rhythm, and his eyes lost focus.  She nipped his neck and rasped, “May I make you come, my prince?”

“You may,” he said, his voice shaking.

She instantly reached for his lower back and dragged her thumb through the furred remains of his tail, soft for the first stroke, then kneading firmly against the grain of the dense fur.  He gave a throaty cry and jolted into her, a wave of strange energy pulsing from his skin and washing over hers.  It left a mild tingle everywhere but inside her pussy, where it felt like someone put a vibrator directly onto her nervous system and sent her brain into outer space.

They trembled in unison before slowly slumping into a useless pile of muscle and bone.

***

Vegeta had no idea what time it was.  Didn’t particularly care either, outside of the fact that he knew Vicki had to be exhausted.  She’d instructed him to help her perform 'aftercare', which she helped him with in return.  He found himself feeling a little shy as she tended to his cock with a warm washcloth, but let it go when she topped off the gentle procedure with a kiss over his heart.

Now they lay beside one another.  He was processing the incredible experiences, and wondering how he’d ever lived without the pleasure Vicki gave him. And how he was going to go back to living without it.

She was uncharacteristically silent, though her fingers were laced with his, which helped to ease his foolish anxiety.

Vicki turned onto her side and whispered, “Hey, you.”

He shifted onto his hip and whispered, “Hey, yourself.”

Her lips curved into a soft smile.  “Is it okay if I sleep in here with you, or would you be more comfortable if I went back to my room?”

His throat tightened.  Was there a right answer?  He didn’t want to offend her, or make her think--

She skimmed her fingers through his hair. “Easy, sweetheart. I just don’t want you to feel overwhelmed.  It won’t hurt my feelings if you want some head space.”

Vegeta turned onto his back and stared up at the ceiling, trying to figure out his feelings on the matter.

“I’ll go,” she whispered, moving to sit up.

The thought of her leaving right that moment made his stomach twist.  He caught her arm.  “No.  Stay.”

“Are you sure?”

Vegeta nodded and felt delight wash through his belly as she shifted against his side and draped an arm and a leg over him.  For tonight, he would allow himself the pleasure of her skin against his. Just tonight.

How he’d convince himself to go back to the way things were was a problem for Morning Vegeta.

Chapter Text

"My my, what do we have here?”

Searing pain.

“A fallen prince."

Blood pooling.

"...it looks like I finally

           shut

                      you

                                up."

Choking.

         Drowning.

“A fallen prince.”

                   Can't breathe.

“A fallen prince.”

                   Can't breathe.

“A fallen prince.”

                            Can't breathe.

Raucous laughter all around.

Can't breathe!

Vegeta jolted upright, gasping and coughing.  Vicious creatures lunged at him from the shadows, and horrible, cold laughter rang in his ears.

Something touched him, making a defensive sizzle of ki spring to life.

“Whoa, okay.  Easy, sweetheart,” said Vicki, her voice husky with sleep.

Vegeta scrambled away, only to find himself tangled in the bedclothes.  “Get away from me!”

"I will. It's okay. You're safe, Vegeta."

His heart pounded in his throat, and shame started to flood through his body.  He fought to get his legs free.

“You don’t have to run,” she said softly.

He finally kicked loose and lurched to his feet.  Adrenaline shakes were starting to cascade over his body, and there was a dull pain behind his eyes. "Just get out!"

Vicki sat up, but didn’t follow.  “Do you really want me to leave?”

“Yes!” he shouted.

She took a moment to rub her eyes, then nodded and said through a yawn, “Okay.  Help me find my clothes, would you?”

Reality kicked in, driving home how irrationally he was acting, but his pride wouldn’t let him relent.  In two quick moves, he had her shirt and panties in hand and tossed to the bed.

“Can I hug you before I go?” she asked softly as she finished dressing.

Vegeta gave a sharp nod.  “Fine.”  Like he was doing her a favour rather than giving himself a chance to sink into her soft warmth for one last moment.

Vicki wrapped around him and squeezed lightly, scraping her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck.  A purr longed to pull free of his chest, but he clamped down on it.  He didn’t deserve that comfort.

She sighed softly as she released him.  “I hope the rest of your sleep is better, Vegeta.”

And then she was out the door and headed across the hall.  And he stood there, frozen in place.  Hating himself.  Hating this planet.  Hating everything.

***

Vicki woke before sunrise with a mild hangover, stiff hips, and aching shoulders.  How much was from the trial of replacing that damn water heater and how much was from Vegeta was hard to say.

Her stomach tightened at the memory of their night together, and how utterly relaxed he was when he dropped to sleep.  It broke her heart that it hadn’t lasted much more than an hour. He'd woken her with mostly incomprehensible mumbling, but one word had been crystal clear.

Whoever or whatever a 'freeza' was, they or it deserved to go straight to hell.

Vicki pinched her brow and heaved out a long breath. How could she respond in the aftermath of being booted out of his room that wouldn't result in him taking off to Alpha Centauri? Vegeta was so standoffish and prickly most of the time that she wasn’t sure what to say or do to help smooth things over, if there even was a right thing to say.

If she even got a chance to talk to him.  The alien would probably avoid her like the plague, if past behaviour was any indication.

At any rate, lazing in bed wasn’t going to solve anything, so she rolled out of bed and groaned as more muscles and joints protested.  Yesterday really had been overkill.

Getting to the washroom took Herculean effort, but by the time she showered and got dressed, everything had faded to a dull roar.  She threw her wet hair into a haphazard bun and made her way toward the main kitchen.  Aside from Vegeta, the only thing on her mind was coffee, and lots of it.

As the machine hissed and bubbled through the process of making coffee, Vicki’s stomach started to complain.  Probably because her last solid meal was yesterday’s breakfast.

She poked through the fridge and pulled out a container of strawberries, milk, eggs, butter, and yogurt.  Before continuing her hunt for ingredients, she snagged a couple larger strawberries and stuffed them in her face to quell the immediate need for food.

Vegeta rounded the corner into the kitchen unexpectedly, making her jump, and swallow too soon.  His dour face turned to alarm as she coughed and choked on half a mouthful of berry.

“Are you alright?”

Vicki nodded as she hacked up a lung, her eyes watering from the sting in her throat.  “Wrong tube,” she rasped when the coughing eased.

His brows pinched tight.  “You should be more careful.”

She gave him a wry look.  “Thanks for the advice.  Coffee?”

Vegeta’s dark eyes were impossible to read at the best of times, and now he was even more inscrutable, considering he would hardly make eye contact with her.  She decided to ignore his awkwardness and poured them both a cup of coffee.  He took his without comment.

“I was about to make pancakes.  Wait…do you know what pancakes are?”

He took a sip of his coffee, then looked somewhat thoughtful.  “Round things with…syrup?”

Vicki nodded.  “Do you want some?”

Vegeta looked far too serious for such an early time of day.  “Yes.  Thank you.”

“Great.”  She started digging through the pantry for flour and baking powder.  “You know, if you want, I can show you how to make them.  Then you can make them for yourself whenever you feel like it.”

When she turned around, he was staring at her with a strangely shy look on hi face.  “I…have never…”

Her cheeks warmed as she recalled the same confession from the night before.  She dared a soft quip.  “Well, I have it on pretty good authority that you’re a fast learner.”

Vegeta’s face went scarlet, but he didn’t scurry away or look entirely scandalized.  “Alright.  Fine.  Show me.”

***

Vegeta followed Vicki’s instructions exactly.  He pretended it was a matter of practicality to learn how to cook, but his inner voice teased him mercilessly for taking the excuse to spend more time with the Earth woman.

After his disgraceful blow-up in the wee hours, he was surprised she would say a word to him.  To his confusion, she was perfectly normal, and hadn’t poked fun at his weakness or made any snide remarks. He kept waiting for the sting of a sharp rebuke, but none came.

At any rate, he was in the thick of it now, and the same pride that saw her expelled from his room would not let him retreat.  So he measured out different powders, and stirred them as directed.

Then came the eggs.

Vegeta stared at the oozing egg and broken shell coating his hand.

Vicki barked a laugh and handed him a paper towel.  His face burned with humility and rising anger.  How was he supposed to know how fragile a fucking egg was?  Maybe she should have warned him.  He clenched his jaw and scrubbed the muck away.

She finished wiping the broken egg from the counter, and set a fresh one in front of him.  “Okay, Muscles.  Let’s try that again, only a little softer.”

And just like that, all the anger deflated.  He picked it up, and tried again.  This attempt was far too soft to crack the egg, but with progressive force, he managed to just crack the shell rather than explode the whole thing.

Vicki smiled broadly and patted him on the back as he carefully emptied the egg into the bowl.  “I knew you could do it.”

He scoffed, but didn’t quite manage to quash a pleased smile.  “It wasn’t that hard.”

The rest of the process was easy in comparison.  He didn’t even burn his tester pancake, which Vicki said she always managed to do, somehow.  The first bite of food he’d made with his own hands tasted good .  Delight burned hot and bright in his chest as Vicki ate the other half, and made a satisfied little sound.

“Perfection,” she said, and he could have flown to the moon and back on that ego boost.

Of course, once they sat down to eat, old habits reared up, and he started to bolt each pancake in big bites and quick swallows, chasing that sated feeling before anyone could take his plate away.  Vicki reached toward the platter of pancakes, and he barely kept himself from snarling and snatching it closer.

Vicki seemed oblivious, even though he was sure his face went red from embarrassment.  Why couldn’t he just remain stoic in her presence?

He was working on a fifth plateful when she finished her last pancake and sat back in her chair.  “You really did a great job, V.”

He could feel his chest puff up at the compliment.  “Is all cooking that easy?”

She shrugged.  “Some stuff is harder, but there are lots of easy things you can make.  I’ll show you some techniques.”

Vegeta nodded.  “That would be…pleasant.”

Vicki smiled.  “Agreed.”

When he finally finished eating, she stood and started to clear the table.  Vegeta almost got up and walked away, but decided to see what the cleaning process was.  For educational purposes, of course.

She turned on a faucet and added a blue coloured liquid soap to the water.  It started to foam up.  “Hey, I have an idea,” she said.  “If you’re interested.”

Curiosity bloomed in his belly.  “I’m listening.”

“I don’t have to work today, so I thought I’d maybe go out to the mountains.”

“I see.”

Vicki dipped the plates into the foamy water.  “You could come with me.”

He frowned.  “I have to work out.”

She turned and leaned her hip against the counter.  “This is exercise, too.  Probably not nearly as hardcore as your usual stuff, but it has to be painfully boring to be stuck in that room all day, every day.”

Vegeta almost laughed.  “I don’t get bored.  I’m working out.”

Vicki put a palm against the centre of his chest.  He tried to ignore the way his body automatically wanted to press closer and fire up with a purr.

She batted her pretty eyelashes.  “C’mon, V.  It’ll do your head some good to get out of the box for a day.  And it’s a pretty challenging hike, so you’ll still be getting some exercise.”

Vegeta’s brow furrowed.  “What is a hike?”

***

After several more protests that grew more and more half-hearted, Vegeta allowed himself to be convinced to go on this ‘glorified walk in the woods’.  Vicki’s words, not his.

If he was being honest, her lack of any real reaction to his appalling behaviour the night before had him entirely off-balance.  He wasn’t entirely sure what he expected, but it certainly wasn’t her teaching him how to cook pancakes and offering to take him away from the compound.

Nor did he expect himself to be so amenable to her.  Vegeta had plans.  Big plans that did not include an Earthling woman with pillow soft lips and hair that he wanted to wrap himself in for the rest of his days.

He forced his thoughts elsewhere.  This was a temporary distraction, only for the day.  It meant nothing, and he would not let himself be persuaded to continue anything other than their cordial relationship.  Even if her smile made him feel…things.

Vicki climbed into her truck, and he followed.

“Just need to swing by my place so I can change into something a little more suitable for the mountains,” she said as she reversed the truck and started to maneuver through the parking lot.

He shrugged.  “I’m at your mercy.”

She smiled. "Now there's a dangerous statement."

The drive over was largely quiet, other than her occasional singing along to the confounded music on the stereo. Vegeta still couldn't quite believe how much time and effort the humans wasted on something so frivolous. Didn't they have anything better to do with their time?

She turned into the parking area beside a tall brick building. Vegeta couldn't contain his curiosity and stared up the side of the large structure.

"You coming?" asked Vicki as she opened her door.

“Am I invited?”

She nodded.  “Sure.  You can see how the other half lives.”

“What does that mean?”

Vicki headed toward a glass door in the middle of the building.  “You’ve been living at the compound of one of the richest families on the entire planet.  It’s not exactly representative of how most humans live.”

The building was even more fascinating on the inside.  Long hallways were lined with brown doors, and a patterned carpet was underfoot. A musty odor invaded his nostrils, and he could see dust clinging to any flat surface they passed. There wasn’t an elevator, so they had to climb four flights of stairs.

Vegeta found himself momentarily distracted by the sight of Vicki’s ass, almost at perfect eye level as she danced lightly up the stairs.  Before his mind could drag him somewhere untoward, she turned a corner, and approached a door labeled ‘402’.

Inside the apartment was larger than he expected, given her description of it as a “shoebox”. It smelled much fresher and looked cleaner than the rest of the building, which wasn't surprising when he considered her immaculate office, or the tidy way she worked.

His attention was immediately caught by framed pictures on the walls.  Everywhere.  Vegeta was drawn to them immediately.  The most prominent was a picture of Vicki in a bright white uniform, standing in front of a huge ship.

“My first post,” she said, pointing to the ship.  “The Constant.  2000 sailors.”

“Is that a lot?”

She nodded.  “Almost as big as a ship gets, these days.  It also carried aircraft for the air force.”

Vegeta moved to the next picture, which was her in the same uniform, and surrounded by three other people.  Two were clearly her parents, and the third was almost a perfect copy of her, only male.  All four looked very serious, especially her father.

“My parents, James and Marilyn.  And my twin brother, Dominic.”

He made a disbelieving sound and looked closer. “There are two of you?”

Vicki smirked.  “Yes.”

“Your poor parents.”

She gave his shoulder a friendly shove.  “Hilarious.  I’m going to change.  Make yourself at home.”

Vegeta had no idea what ‘make yourself at home’ meant, so he stayed exactly where he was, first staring at the pictures on the wall, then looking over items arranged on a small shelving unit.  Some were silly junk, like a little statuette of a four-legged creature, but he spotted a small frame filled with impressive looking medals, and a military-styled patch.

“Lieutenant Commander,” said Vicki, almost directly in his ear, making him jump, just a little.  “My last rank.”

“It sounds impressive.”

“Depends on your perspective, I suppose.” She moved into the kitchen area, where she began packing things into a small backpack.  “What kind of snacks do you like?”

“What are snacks?”

Her brow pinched.  “Uh…it’s like a little tiny meal between meals.”

The thought of eating outside of designated mealtimes was too decadent.  Vegeta huffed dismissively.  “That’s ridiculous.”

“You’d think a growing boy like you would hop right on the snack train.”

“I eat at mealtimes.”

“Yeah, like a starved beast.”

His face went hot.  “Do not,” he protested feebly.

“Do too.  Because your poor body needs more calories.  So make with the snacking.”

Vegeta frowned at the impudent woman.  “Or else what?”

“Or else I’ll be sad.”  Vicki screwed up her face in an exaggerated frown.  “You don’t want me to be sad, do you?”

“I don’t particularly care one way or the other,” he lied.

Vicki made a scornful noise and pulled a few packages out of her cupboards.  “I have trail mix, some fruit, some chips, and some chocolate.  Plus a few bottles of water.  Anything else you want?”

He sneered.  “Why not throw in some sort of roasted animal while you're at it?”

She tossed him an apple and zipped the backpack shut.  “Tell you what.  You try snacking between meals for a few days.  I bet you find your workouts way more productive.”

Vegeta had no intention to get used to the luxury of snacking, but found himself bringing the apple to his mouth anyway.  Blasted earth woman.

***

Vicki's brain was a jumble of unwelcome thoughts, all centering on the way Vegeta looked when charging into her room to save her from the spider.  She could picture the beads of water sparkling on his bare chest, and how they drifted slowly down the wickedly defined lines and ridges of his abs before disappearing beneath the towel.  The man was a work of art. It was a miracle that she’d been at all coherent the first time she opened her mouth, and didn’t just point and drool like a goddamned idiot.

Vicki considered herself to have a normal libido.  There were dry spells here and there, but she didn’t have any issues finding a partner if she wanted one.  This new, rampant desire for the most infuriating person she’d ever met in her entire life was throwing her completely for a loop.

Why Vegeta, of all people?  What made him so enticing?  It wasn’t just his face or body, because she could go to her own gym and pick up a pretty muscle head anytime she wanted.  And it definitely wasn’t his warm personality, unless she had become a masochist when she wasn’t paying attention.

She rubbed her forehead and tried to banish the memories of how warm his skin felt under her palms, or how he pinned her to the bed with no effort.

“Are you done?”

She jolted out of her thoughts in time to see Vegeta pop the core of the apple into his mouth.

Vicki winced. “You don't have to eat that part.”

He swallowed. “Why not? Tastes the same.”

She shrugged. “Just…because. Never mind. Let's go.”

Vicki went to heft the backpack, only for Vegeta to snag it away and throw it over his own shoulders.

“Thanks, V,” she said, patting his arm.

His cheeks went pink.  “Shut up.”

Traffic was light as they cruised towards the outskirts of the city.  At the last light, her phone began to ring through the truck speakers.  ‘Home’ flashed on the screen.  She winced and shot Vegeta an apologetic look.  “I have to take this.”

He shrugged, his gaze locked out the passenger window.

She pushed the button to connect the call.  “Hey, everything okay?”

To her unpleasant surprise, her mother spoke.  “The appropriate greeting on the telephone is 'hello', Victoria."

A pit opened in her stomach. Of all the days for her to be somewhat intelligible, why did it have to be the one with the Saiyan listening in? "Uh, sorry mother. How are you?"

"Never mind that. Victoria, why aren’t you at home?  You need to be studying for finals.”

Vicki felt her entire body cringe, and avoided looking anywhere near her passenger as she played into her mother’s delusion.  “I know, I know.  School is important.  I’ll only be out for a little while.”

“You’d better be home before I head into work, young lady.”

“I will be.  Hey, is Dom home?”

“Dominic is already studying, the way you should be.”

She rolled her eyes.  “I have a question from math class.  Put him on, would you?”

There was some shuffling, then her brother came on the line.  “Yeah,” he said, clearly talking with his mouth full of some kind of food.

“She's having quite a lucid morning, isn't she?”

He scoffed.  “Yeah, she won’t shut up.”

Vicki bit back a rebuke.  “Okay, well make sure she’s got her tracker on.  She’s probably going to try and leave at some point.”

There was a long, exasperated sigh.  “I know how to take care of her, Vic.”

Anger started to sizzle at the base of her spine.  “So that’s why you had to call me at midnight last week when she wandered off?”

“Could you just give me a fuckin’ break?  I didn’t mean to forget the tracker.”

“Or the deadbolts, right?”  She gripped the steering wheel harder and fought to control her temper.  “Instead of arguing with me, please just go make sure she has the tracker on--”

“Fine!  Fuck!”

The call went dead.  Vicki stared straight ahead, struggling to control her breathing, and fend off the tears of fury that burned the back of her eyeballs.

Vegeta cleared his throat.  “You…uh…you okay?”

“Oh yeah.  Everything’s just peachy keen over here.” She gave a bitter laugh.

There was a long moment of silence, then a tentative, “So…”

Vicki finally braved a look his way, and found a worried crease between his eyebrows.  She sighed and faced forward again.  “Do you know what Alzheimer’s disease is?”

After a moment, he shook his head. “No."

“Alzheimer’s disease is a brain disorder that slowly destroys memory and thinking skills.  My mother's case is fairly advanced, so she's usually incoherent and in her own little world.  But sometimes she comes back to a delusional reality, where she seems pretty lucid, except that she usually thinks and acts as though things are fifteen years ago.  Hence her treating me like a school kid."

"I see."

"I know that whole conversation was probably weird to you. The doctors say that unless her delusion is harmful, playing along when she's in that kind of state is kinder than trying to remind her of the truth." She swallowed hard. "Of course, it's gutting for me, but if it makes things easier for her, I'll pretend to be fifteen again."

“And Dominic is at home with her?”

She nodded.  “He’s acting as her caregiver.  Not by my choice, but whatever.”

Vegeta shifted so he was facing her more fully.  “Shouldn’t she be with her family?”

Vicki gnawed at her lower lip.  “You’d think that, wouldn’t you?  Except that she wanders and gets lost, and no matter what I do to prevent it, he still manages to fuck up in one way or another, and then it’s another frantic hunt.”

"Where is your father in all this?"

The anger started to burn again. "You know, that is just such an excellent question."

There was a mile of silence before he said softly, "He ran off to Japan and left his children to care for his ailing wife?"

Vicki tapped the side of her nose. "You're pretty good at this game."

Vegeta scowled. "What a coward."

She very nearly flinched. No one spoke ill of her father. Ambassador James Trinity was very careful to control his public image, especially when it came to the perception of being the perfect family man. Hearing Vegeta echo her private thoughts, and with such certainty, was gratifying in a way she didn’t anticipate.

Silence fell again, and guilt started to creep in. "I'm sorry," she muttered. "I didn’t mean to drag you into my whole family soap opera."

He tilted his head.  “What is a soap opera?”

***

The scenery as they left the city improved dramatically.  On the driver's side was an endless view of the sea.  On Vegeta’s side, beautifully green trees lined the road, backdropped by imposing mountains. Vicki had rolled down her window and he copied her, letting in air heavily scented by pine. It combed steadily through his hair, which was more pleasant than he expected it might be.

As a rule, Frieza didn’t leave his warriors on any planet's surface for very long.  Didn’t want them to get too comfortable on solid ground.  Usually they were there to kick some ass, and try to force the planet’s inhabitants to be agreeable subjects of their new overlord.  And if the inhabitants decided to fight back, then the planet was destroyed, no questions asked.  He’d hated every last one of those missions, which he suspected was part of why he was always tasked with them.

A bitter taste rose in the back of his throat.  His hatred of Frieza for destroying his planet had never abated, and now he’d never have the chance at payback.  It would be a lingering thorn in his side, no matter how powerful he became.  No amount of wishing or fighting or training would make it fade away.

Soft humming in the driver’s seat distracted him from his dark ruminations.  It had taken some time after the phone call, but Vicki finally relaxed behind the wheel, and was now humming to the song playing on the radio.  Some sappy shit about love and heartache.  Seemed to him that the majority of music on this planet revolved around such nonsense.

His eyes moved to the hand she had out of the window, coasting on the air rushing past the truck. As he watched, she curved her fingers here and there, letting the hand kite higher and lower. It was hypnotic, and made him long to go for a flight himself. Maybe she would come with him.

Vegeta cut that treacherous thought short. His involvement with her already bested his self control. Especially when she left her hair down, and the silken strands floated on the breeze.

He shouldn't have agreed to this trip.

The conversation with her family replayed in his head, and the helpless rage he’d felt emanating from her.  Vegeta had the insane desire to make it better, to ease some of that crushing burden for her.  Why the hell did he care at all?  Her life wasn’t his concern.  And yet, it lingered in the back of his mind like an unwanted intruder.

Even less welcome were the replays of her kneeling at his feet and worshipping his cock. Or laying on her back, her incredible pussy clenching rhythmically as he made her come again, and again. His name on her perfect lips.

Vicki still hadn't brought up her unceremonious dismissal, or his foolish nightmare. Neither had he. What was there to say, after all?

At least she didn't seem angry or put out that he hadn't been a very gracious host. Not that it mattered. His brain was doing a bang-up job berating him for making himself look weak and foolish in front of her, yet again.

She turned onto a road that headed directly into the mountains. A sign announced they were in 'bear country' and directed visitors not to feed any wildlife.

"What is a bear?" he asked.

Vicki gave him a weird look, then smiled. "Alien.  Right."

He had no idea how to react to that statement.

She continued, "Bears are one of Earth's apex predators.  Four legged, mammalian, omnivorous, and highly territorial. They'll be wandering with their babies this time of year, which makes them extra dangerous."

"Will we see one?"

"If we're lucky, no."

Vegeta frowned. "They sound interesting. I would like to see one."

"I'll show you a video. It's a hell of a lot safer."

He scoffed. Safer.  More like boring.

A parked vehicle came into sight as they rounded the curve. Vicki slowed to a stop beside it. An older man sat behind the wheel, wearing a tan uniform and cap that announced him as a park ranger.

He spoke with a lazy drawl. "Ms. Trinity, how are you?"

"Hey, Howard. I'm good. How are things today?"

Of course she knows him.

Howard hooked a thumb over his shoulder. "Ol' Bess is on the Lower Falls Trail today. Wouldn't advise going in the area."

Vicki nodded. "She have her babies yet?"

"Not that I've seen, but they gotta be kicking around." He jutted his chin toward Vegeta. "Who's your friend?"

"Oh, this is Vegeta. Vegeta, this is Ranger Howard."

Vegeta gave a stiff nod.

Howard nodded back, then lifted a brow. "What manner o' name is Vegato?" he asked, butchering the pronunciation.

Vicki shot Vegeta a warning look as he sucked in a breath to correct the man. "Uh, he's foreign. From...er...Tajikistan."

"Gotcha." Howard then leaned forward, looking directly at Vegeta, and said even more slowly, and much more loudly, "Wel-come to our coun-try, Veh-jay-toe."

Vicki's eyes fluttered closed. Vegeta found every word caught in his throat as he struggled to maintain a civil tone for Vicki's sake. The only thing he could manage was a strangled, "Thanks."

Before his wounded pride could act out, Vicki interjected, "Okay, we're burning daylight. Have a good one, Howard."

Howard waved and they drove on. About a mile later, Vicki peeked his way. "Howard was trying to be nice."

"He thought I was stupid."

"No, he assumed you didn't speak English."

“Because you said I was from Tajikiki-whatever!”

“Do you want me to go back and tell him you’re an alien from another planet?”

He scowled at the passing trees.  “No.”

“Then what should I have said?”

"Whatever.  How does saying English words more loudly help if I don't speak it?"

She sighed and rubbed her forehead. "I don't know. Howard's old school, and doesn't understand that it might be offensive to talk to strangers that way."

He huffed. "Do you know someone everywhere you go?"

"Feels like it, these days." Vicki smiled wistfully. "You know, it's kind of a novelty for me. I moved around so much for most of my life, and never really got to be friends with anyone along the way. I'm making up for lost time."

"Why?"

She shrugged. "I dunno. It's nice to go to a place where they know who you are. They treat you differently. I mean, look at Miguel at La Cantina. I don't even have to order anymore. He just knows what I like, and half the time gives me a freebie of some kind. All because I introduced myself and put in a little effort to get to know him. I bet if I took you there today, he'd remember you too, and have them whipping up all your favorites before we even reached the front of the line."

Vegeta frowned. "I only met him once."

"Yeah, but you showed up with me. So that social credit gets extended to you. Plus you ate more of his food in one sitting than I have in six months. I bet he likes you more than he likes me."

"You humans behave strangely."

"You’re one to talk.”

“I beg your pardon?”  Vegeta sat straighter.  “I behave exactly as a proper Saiyan should.”

"So being a prickly asshole just comes naturally?"

He shot her a dirty look. "Says the control freak."

She barked a laugh. "Touché. Although, to be fair, you didn't know me in my navy days. You'd say I've become downright agreeable in comparison."

"Why did you leave the navy?" The question blurted itself out before he could catch it.

Her lips tightened, but after a moment she said softly, "Lots of reasons, but my mother's illness was the final straw. I wanted to be closer to her before it progressed too far, which I couldn't guarantee if I stayed in."

It was hardly a satisfying answer, but she turned the truck into a large gravel parking lot, distracting him from the non-reply. They climbed out. Vegeta took a look around, noting only two other vehicles in the lot, along with several more warning signs about bears and feeding wildlife.

How many warnings do these idiots need? 

He turned back to the truck in time to see Vicki stretching her arms high overhead, baring a swath of skin along her midriff. Some joints popped along her spine, making her give a satisfied groan that kickstarted his imagination. He’d made her make that sound, countless times.

As he tried desperately to stave off the sudden arousal that was hitting him like a freight train, she started digging in the backseat, and muttering to herself as she packed things into a backpack.

"Bear spray, check. Snacks, check. Water, check. Sweater...oh, fuck." She turned to him. "I forgot to grab you a sweater."

He lifted a brow that was already starting to lightly bead with sweat in the morning sun. "It isn't cold."

"Not down here, it isn't. But at the top it will be."

He smirked. "I'm sure I'll live."

"You sure? There's a gift shop not far from here. It'll be a tacky tourist sweater, but--"

"Yeah, pass on that."

She scowled. "Dammit. Now I'm going to worry about it."

Vegeta leaned on the truck. "Why?"

"Because I invited you, and I should have made sure you were fully prepared. What a stupid oversight."

"And you say I'm hard on myself?"

Vicki scoffed. "No, I say you torture yourself. Big difference."

"What's that earth saying? Teapot calling the pan something or other?"

She gave him a mystified look. "What?"

"Never mind," he muttered. 

She poked through her pack again, and passed him a small silver bell. "Clip this onto one of your belt loops."

He lifted it to his face and shook lightly. It gave a merry little jingle. "Why?"

Vicki clipped an identical bell to one of the pack straps. "So any bears on the trail hear us coming. We don't want to sneak up on them."

"Speak for yourself."

She gave an exasperated laugh. "I know you want to see one, but trust me. They aren't pleasant when their babies are running around, so it won't be as much fun as you're imagining."

He grumbled to himself and clipped the bell to a belt loop.

Vicki ran through her items one last time, then swung the pack onto her back and adjusted the straps. "Okay, you good to go?"

"Well, I don't have a sweater," he started, only to have her give him a shove that knocked him sideways a step.

"Smart ass. Let's go."

He smirked and fell in behind her.

***

Vicki led them onto one of her favorite trails. Glass Lake Trail started out easily, with a steady, curving rise through old forest, then began to wind up the side of the mountain in steep switchbacks. It was challenging, but incredibly scenic and usually didn't see a lot of traffic, so it was mostly private as well.

Vegeta hiked along quietly, his head in constant motion as he surveyed their surroundings. She couldn't see his eyes through his sunglasses, but she imagined they were on the move just as much.

Vicky found silence in the truck a little awkward due to the confined space, but on the trail, it was almost meditative to stay quiet and let the sounds of nature fill the air instead. The only man-made sound to be heard was the tinkle of their two bear bells. Otherwise it was distant running water, cheerful little birds singing, and the soft hiss of wind through the trees.

It took two hours to reach the first break point at the shore of Glass Lake. By then, her legs had a pleasant burn, and her breath was slightly laboured. Beneath the backpack, her shirt was damp with sweat.

Vegeta, in contrast, looked as though he was strolling casually through an air conditioned mall. He didn't complain about the lack of challenge, but then again, he was good at hiding his feelings. When he chose to.

A small, crystal clear lake, the namesake of the trail, stood at the bottom of a bowl about 100 feet from the trail itself. The waterfall that fed it was muted by the rocks it tumbled over, but the sound of rushing water still sank into her ears and left her feeling almost perfectly zen.

She led Vegeta to the little lake and set her pack on one of the large boulders dotting its shore. "Want a snack?" she asked, her voice feeling strangely intrusive after such an extended silence.

He stood with the water lapping at the toe of his shoes. "No."

She pulled out a zipper bag that contained trail mix, some beef jerky, a couple sliced oranges, and protein bars and rattled the contents in his direction.  After a few moments, he made an exasperated noise and snagged one of the oranges.

As they sat in the brighter sunbeam, she noticed that the bruise on the side of his jaw was already starting to yellow on the edges.  “You have the metabolism of a champion.”

Vegeta gave her an odd look.  “Why would you say that?”

She passed him a bottle of water and pointed to the side of his jaw.  “You’re already mostly healed.  Still wish you’d be more careful.”

He scoffed.  “I’ve had far worse training injuries than that little bruise.  Never slowed me down.”

"Were you training with dangerously high levels of gravity at the time?"

There was a long, irritated sigh, then a reluctant, "No."

Vicki took a swig of water. "Then you should play it more safely. Capiche?"

"What does 'capiche' mean?"

"It's Italian, kind of. Means 'do you understand'."

He gave an irritated grunt. "I'm capable of judging my limits just fine, thank you."

She scoffed. "No, you're not. You're just too damn obstinate to stop, even if it’s for your own good."

Vegeta slugged back half a bottle of water. "Am not."

"Thank you for making my point."

He gave another irritated grunt, which she imitated, which made his eyes go narrow and the vein on the side of his head start to bulge.

"Are you mocking me?"

"Yes."

"Stop it."

"No."

He made a strangled sound.

Vicki smirked at him. "Look, someone has to take the starch out of your uniform. Might as well be me."

"Oh, really? And why is that?" Vegeta snarled.

She shrugged and picked away at a handful of trail mix. "Because your blustering doesn't scare me."

"I do not bluster."

"Yeah, you do. I mean, I'm sure you can back it up, given the notion." Vicki dumped the last of the mix into her mouth and said around the mouthful, "But why would you? Awful lot of energy to waste when you can just huff and puff and most people skedaddle."

He held his open water bottle between his lap and his mouth, probably forgotten as she poked direct fun, yet again.

"I didn’t come out here to be harassed," he snapped.

"No, you came because you needed to get away from that compound before you lost your mind."

"Tch. My mind is just fine.  And if a certain busy-body minded their own damn business--"

"You done? Or do you want to register more complaints?”  Vicki tucked the discarded wrappers, and orange peels into a separate zipper bag.

He hissed a curse and got to his feet. "Let's go."

“Maybe I should buy you a diary so you can record all those negative feelings," she called to his retreating back.  “Learn how to deal with them instead of just bottling it all up until you explode.”

***

Vegeta marched behind Vicki in indignant silence, pretending he wasn't stuck on the side of a mountain with the most insufferable person he'd ever met. Goddamn woman was tap-dancing on his last nerve and, so help him, he didn't know what would happen when that nerve wore out.

How dare she openly mock him! He should take off and leave her to this stupid hike by herself. He could easily get back to the compound with enough time to train in the grav-tank for at least a couple hours before--

Vicki stopped short and spun to face him.

"The pot calling the kettle black!"

Vegeta stared at her. "The fuck are you going on about now?"

"I finally figured out what you were trying to say down at the trailhead."

The memory clicked. He pointed with his chin at the trail ahead. "Uh huh. Move it."

She did not move.  "On a scale from one to ten, how angry are you right now?"

"Ten," he snapped instantly.

She gave a soft laugh. "You’re gonna give yourself an ulcer, my friend."

Friend? What kind of person deliberately provoked someone they called 'friend'?

As she turned to head up the trail, she suddenly froze in her tracks and held up a hand. "Do you hear that?" she whispered.

He listened, and then heard a slow shuffling step in the woods beside them. Whatever it was, was moving in their direction.

Vicki reached around her side and fumbled with a can in a side pouch. "Get me that can," she hissed when it kept slipping just out of her reach.

He got it out and handed it over. "What is it?"

"Bear spray."

The steps moved closer, suddenly followed by two smaller sets of rushing steps.

She stepped back slowly, the can held in front of her like a weapon, while her other hand guided him to move directly behind her. Vegeta might have found it insulting, but the idea of this tiny woman with no discernable power level defending his safety was amusing more than anything else.

Two small creatures burst into sight twenty feet down the trail. Both were covered in thick blackish-brown fur, and moved with clumsy steps. Seconds later a creature of the same shape, only weighing at least 500 pounds, crashed through the trees. It stopped short and stared at him and Vicki, then rose onto its back legs, easily clearing six feet in height. Wicked claws tipped each paw, and a c-shaped scar marked the creature’s muzzle.

An exhilarating dose of adrenaline thrilled through his veins. This creature deserved every last warning he'd seen, and then some. What magnificence!

Vicki shouted at the creature, "Get outta here, Bess! Take your babies to the river!"

The creature roared and dropped to all fours. It charged forward a few steps, but Vicki held her ground.

"Go on!" She lunged forward a step, swinging her arms wildly like a crazy person. "Get!"

The creature flinched back a step, giving Vicki a wary look. Then one of the babies came toddling forward, and all hesitation left the big one's eyes. It rushed forward with a bellowing roar.

Vicki moved her free hand to the can, but before she could do anything else, Vegeta spun her around, hooked an arm around her waist, and launched them both twenty feet into the sky. She cried out in surprise and dropped the can as she clung to his neck.

The creature below charged through the spot they'd just been, and then looked around in apparent confusion.

Vicki shifted and fussed. "I can't see around your stupid muscles. Are they taking off?"

Vegeta gloated to himself at her 'muscles' comment, and watched the creatures below. The little ones were wrestling, while the big one moved back and forth along the trail, her manner restless. It paused to sniff the fallen can and gave it a half-hearted poke. The metallic scrape made it shy back a step.

"Not yet. So those are bears?"

"Yup," she said, her voice strained. One of her legs wrapped around his. "Uh, how close are any trees?"

He looked. "About fifteen feet away."

"Alright. Should be okay."

"Why? Do they climb trees?"

"Yup." She tightened her grip on his neck. "How long can you stay up here?"

“What do you mean?”

“How long can you stay airborne!”

He frowned. "Until I don't want to be?"

"It doesn't take, like, some special energy that's gonna run out any second?"

A laugh escaped him. "No. Why would you think that?"

"Oh, gee, I don't know. Maybe because I don't know anyone else who can fly?"

"That's not true."

"What?"

"Kakarot can fly. And Krillin. And Kakarot's brat. And most of the Namekians."

"Well la di freakin’ dah," she muttered, adjusting so that she had both arms wrapped more tightly around his neck.  “None of them take me on unscheduled flights.”

“You know you don’t need to hang on for dear life, right?”

Her arms didn’t loosen.  "They still down there?"

He glanced down. "Moving into the trees. Looks like they're going toward that little lake."

"Oh, thank Christ." Her entire body relaxed, and her death grip around his neck finally loosened.

As she softened, Vegeta suddenly realized just how perfectly her curves molded against his hard planes. It was as though she were custom made, just for him.

His brain tried to go into full damage control mode, but his heart fought back, insisting that he savor the sensation of the woman in his arms as long as possible. It took a serious battle of willpower not to allow himself to turn and bury his face into the halo of hair that had been tempting him from the first day he saw her.

The bears moved painfully slowly through the woods, but when they were finally another hundred feet away, he drifted them back to the ground. Once her feet touched solid earth, Vicki released him and staggered back a step before bending at the waist and sucking a few deep breaths.

"You okay?" He ignored the urge to hug himself in the absence of her warmth in his arms. Stop. Being. Soft.

She nodded. "Just a little freaked out. That was uncomfortably close. Good move with the flyboy act. Saved us a face full of bear spray."

"How did you know it was Bess?"

"Ol' Bess has a distinct c-shaped scar on her snout. Plus she's one of the biggest sows in the area." Vicki straightened and fumbled with returning the can to its pouch. "We're lucky she’s a black bear.  A grizzly would have eviscerated the both of us without hesitation.”

"I thought Howard said she was on a different trail."

"She didn't get the memo, I guess."

Vegeta spotted the mother bear's tracks and compared it to his own foot. It wasn’t quite as long as his, but it was a full inch and a half wider. Her claws appeared to extend another few inches.

"So, how did you like your first bear encounter?"

A grin spread across his face. "Bears are awesome."

***

The bear encounter was like a cheat code that unlocked a whole new side of Vegeta. As soon as they returned to their climb, he started to grill her about bears, and everything she knew about them. Vicki did her best to answer his questions, and promised to find answers when she couldn't.

When he finally ran out of questions, she started to talk about other interesting animals in the area. None held his fascination quite so thoroughly, but he was interested all the same. By the time they reached the river crossing just before the final scramble up the mountain, she'd promised to set him up with an entire world of information on animals of any kind.

AKA the internet.

When they reached the edge of the river, Vicki pulled her backpack off and stretched her shoulders.

"I can carry that if you need a break," said Vegeta.

“After we have another snack.” She opened the top zipper and fished out the first bag of snacks plus another bag filled with peanut butter and honey sandwiches that had gotten a little squished in transit.

“Do you ever stop eating?” Vegeta asked.

Vicki smirked and jostled the bag. “You know you want something.”

He rolled his eyes, but grabbed a couple sandwiches and a small packet of beef jerky. Vicki took the remaining orange and a sandwich. They sat on neighboring boulders and ate in companionable silence.

She loved the sounds of the river almost as much as she loved the sounds of the ocean. The piercing cry of an eagle nearby caught her ear. It took a second to spot it on a high cliff ledge, and when she pointed it out to Vegeta, he looked ready to fly off and meet the bird.

The longer they sat, the more the chill of the higher elevation began to settle on her skin.  Vicki pulled out her sweater and tugged it over her head.  “Are you sure you’re not cold?” she asked.

He scoffed.  “Not even a little.”

“Are you lying so I’ll shut up?”

His face twisted into a scowl.  “No.”

“Alright, fine.”

Vegeta polished off the rest of the sandwiches with her blessing, and chugged a bottle of water. "How much further?"

"About an hour, maybe a little longer. It's steeper, and there's a lot more skree on the trail. You'll need to be careful you don't step wrong and twist your ankle."

His lips tightened, but he didn't sass her for worrying about his safety again. "Does it usually take this long?"

"Depends on how quick you move. There's a group I meet with about once a month. We jog to the top of whatever trail, and then run back to the bottom. Whoever gets to the bottom first wins a gift card to Frenelli's Pizza. And you are looking at the six-month reigning champion."  She made a dumb trophy pose.

His eyes took on an admiring glow. "So why did we walk today?"

"Because it was a long day yesterday, and I wanted to relax," she said. "But, if you want, you can come to…the…" She trailed off.

"The…?"

A strange sadness washed through her belly. "I was going to invite you to our next run, but I guess you'll be in space by then."

There was a painful silence.

"You sound disappointed," he said, finally.

I am. Dammit. I really am.  How the hell did this sneak up on me? 

She forced a smile. "Guess I've just gotten used to having you around."

Silence fell again, and the roar of the river suddenly felt deafening. Vegeta fidgeted with a flat rock, and stared studiously at his feet.

Vicki cleared her throat. "And on that awkward note, let's get going."

***

Guess I've just gotten used to having you around.

The words played over and over in his head. Vegeta did everything he could, short of flying away at the speed of sound, but the thoughts just would not stop.

In his distraction, he slipped and nearly face planted.

She spun around, deep concern in her voice. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," he rasped.

She nodded and returned to the climb.

Showing any weakness always hoofed him right in the pride, but it was especially gutting when it happened in front of Vicki.  He wanted her to see him at his best, not his weakest.

Why do I even care? She can see me how she wants to. I'll be gone in a week!

An unexpected pang of regret twisted into his stomach, which only made his black mood blacker.  He wasn’t on Earth to go soft on one of the inhabitants.  Hell, being on this gods-forsaken rock wasn’t part of his plans at all.  It was only bad luck he’d ended up stuck on its surface.  But somehow, despite all of his plans, the little earthling had him rattled.

And he didn't even hate it. That was the worst part!  It was maddening that he couldn't convince himself to end the foolish infatuation.  Instead, every moment he spent with her only cemented it further.

A long-forgotten memory floated to the surface. He stood next to the throne after his father had a particularly intense public argument with his mother. Far from furious, King Vegeta watched her walk away with an admiring smile. He questioned it, as there wasn't anyone else on Planet Vegeta who spoke to the king with such vitriol and survived.

The words of his father whispered through his head. 'We Saiyan men are drawn to strong women like your mother. It's in our blood.'

Vegeta hadn't really understood what his father was talking about until meeting Vicki. Anyone else spoke to him the way she did?  He’d have erased their existence from the universe.  But her? The more she ran her mouth, the more she pushed his buttons, the more he wanted.

He glared at her back as she climbed upward, her steps light and graceful despite the loose shale littering the trail. She had no right to get under his skin, yet there she was.

What the hell was he going to do about it?

The trail went even steeper, forcing him to focus on each step. A cold wind started to increase as well, a familiar sensation at such high altitude.  As automatic as breathing, his ki shield flowed over his skin to protect against the cold. The end came into sight as they both started to climb using their hands as well.

Their breath was just visible in the chilly air at the peak. His lungs and calves had a pleasant burn. A day in the grav-tank would've left him ready to collapse, but as he stood on the precipice of the mountain, he almost wished there were another few hours of climbing.

He turned in a slow circle, taking in the panoramic view. The edges of West City stood to the north, but the bulk of the city was hidden behind other mountains. The one next to them soared high enough that snow covered its peak. A patch of turquoise-blue water lay on the other side of the mountain, fed by a river that disappeared behind a thick bit of forest.

"So? What do you think?" she asked, shouting to be heard over the whistling wind.

It was…pretty. Probably the prettiest place he'd ever seen, if he was honest. Vegeta wondered how many pretty places like this had been destroyed on Frieza's orders. Had there been places like this on his home planet?

Vicki moved closer. “You okay, V?”

He cleared his throat sharply, and banished the past from his thoughts. “It's fine.”

The disappointment in her eyes was enough to make him soften, like a weak, pathetic fool. “I like it,” he added. “Really.”

Her pretty face dazzled with a delighted smile and Vegeta did not melt into goo. Instead, he looked back down the trail. It wasn't the most challenging thing he'd ever done, but he had no interest in taking the human way to the bottom of the mountain. He hadn't had the freedom to really fly since getting stuck on this planet, and he was itching to stretch his metaphorical wings.

But that meant carrying Vicki, which meant more physical contact. The temptation was always there, lingering at the back of his mind. Holding her above the bears had been his first real test of strength, and he'd barely passed. Could he really trust himself?

“Hello?  Earth to Vegeta?”

He jerked his eyes to hers. "Huh?"

"You zoned out on me. Everything okay?"

Vegeta nodded briskly. "Fine."

Vicki looked at him askance. "You'll forgive me if I don't quite buy it."

She was too damn perceptive. He forced a bland shrug. "I was thinking that walking back down is for suckers."

Her brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"Just saying I can get us down to your truck in less than a minute."

Cautious curiosity blossomed in her dark eyes. "Does it have to be that fast? Like, maybe we could go slow enough that my soul stays attached to my body?"

He gave a mocking scoff. "You still have your original soul?"

After pulling a face at him, she looked over the edge of the precipice and twisted her fingers together. "You promise not to fuck around just to freak me out?"

"I would never."

Vicki bit her lip and looked at the trail. "The way down is bullshit," she said slowly.

"All that skree," he said.

"And the bears might’ve come back up the mountain."

"Oh. Wait, now I do wanna walk."

She cuffed him lightly on the stomach. "Don't be a smart ass."

The wind whipped up around them, sending her hair flying. Vicki crossed her arms tightly and shivered. "Whatever we're doing, let's go before I freeze to death."

"It's not that cold."

"It is so!" She reached over and set a hand on his forearm. Her skin was cold enough to make him flinch away, but her eyes lit up. "How on earth are you still this warm?"

Before he could say anything, she wrapped around him with a hungry purr.

Vegeta froze, his pulse thrumming in his ears so loudly he was sure she could hear it. He knew he should pull away, but he couldn’t convince a single part of his body to move.

"You know what? I don't care why. Just gimme."  She pressed even closer and nuzzled into the side of his neck.

His brain forced him to breathe, and the floral scent of her shampoo overwhelmed his senses. Her hair was impossibly soft where it brushed against his skin, begging him to comb a hand through it. To bury his face into that silken mass and let himself get lost. Just for a minute. What could a minute hurt?

"So how does it work?"

He snapped loose from the spiral of temptation. "What?"

"If we fly down. Do I hold onto your back, or…"

Vegeta detangled himself from her arms and ran a hand through his own hair. It was a poor substitute. "Uh...I'll…" He tapped one of the straps of her backpack. "Put this to the front."

She frowned and did as told. "But why--"

A soft gasp escaped her as he swept her into his arms. "Makes this less awkward."

She opened her mouth to say something, but he was already launching. Her entire body went tense and she clung to his neck, her heart pounding so hard he could feel it in his own chest.

"Breathe," he whispered in her ear. "I've got you."

Vicki locked eyes with him, her gaze intense enough to make his palms sweat.  Her body softened in his arms as she let out a shaky breath. "Alright. I trust you."

***

Vicki didn't know what possessed her to throw herself around Vegeta, but she had. And now she wanted more.

Did he? He'd been like a deer in the headlights when they parted. Was that because her touch was unwelcome, or because it was too welcome?

At any rate, he had her firmly cradled as he flew through the air like a bird on the wind. They were moving in a large figure-eight pattern, swooping lower and lower with each loop. There was hardly any wind buffeting them, which seemed strange to her.

"Why isn't it windy?"

"Because I'm shielding us."

"Shielding how?"

"Using ki."

She frowned. 'Ki' wasn't an unfamiliar concept, but using it as some sort of shield? "Stupid question, but what does that mean?"

"I'll show you."

There was a brief flash of light in his dark eyes, and the wind suddenly howled around them, threatening to pull her from his arms. She pressed more tightly against him, only to see another flash, this one briefly encompassing his entire form as well as her. The harsh wind vanished in a blink.

Vicki squinted. Now that she was watching, she could see a strange play of light along his face, almost like the pattern of Damascus steel. She tentatively reached toward his cheek, and when he didn't rebuff the contact, set her fingertips against his skin. The same mottled light pattern swirled up her fingers, leaving them tingling slightly. 

She pulled them away and rubbed her fingertips together. "Fascinating. And these abilities just come naturally to Saiyans?"

His chin lifted. "To most Saiyans, yes. It is a particularly weak Saiyan that cannot master basic flight."

She pulled a face at him. "Are you implying that humans are weak?"

“Not implying.”

If they weren’t still a solid 300 feet above ground, she would have flicked him between the eyebrows.  “Real nice.”

He shrugged.  “It’s the truth.  Not saying that humans don’t have their strongpoints.  Just that they don’t have an innate ability to use their ki.”

“But there are some who can.”

“Yup.”  He looked down, and came to a sudden halt.  “What is that?”

She clutched the front of his shirt and craned her head downward.  A moose was wandering toward Crystal Lake, its massive antlers clearly visible even from so high up.  “That’s a bull moose.”

“I’m going closer.”

“Yeah, well, just stay out of its reach, Curious George.”

He tilted his head.  “Curious George?”

"He's a monkey from a kid's book series. Always in trouble."

A funny look came to his face.  “A monkey?”

She nodded.  “Hangs out with a guy wearing a yellow hat.”

“I see.”  He opened his mouth as though to say more, but seemed to think better of it and started drifting closer to the moose.

The massive creature didn’t seem to notice or care about their presence as it plodded up to the lake and started walking into the water.  Vegeta was like a kid at the zoo for the first time, and kept inching closer and closer, despite her hissed warnings.

“They can swim?”

“Does it look like they can swim?”

“Yes!  Why are the horns so big?”

“Antlers.”

“Whatever.”

“I don’t know.  I think you’re going to like the internet, though.”

The moose climbed out the other side of the lake, and shook itself off before heading back into the woods.  Vegeta watched longingly, but finally swept back into his descending pattern.

Vicki fussed with the bell dangling from her backpack strap.  “Can I ask you something?”

The lingering delight in his eyes snapped to wary concern.  “Depends.”

"It's nothing ominous, I don't think."

“Alright,” he said slowly.

"What, exactly, are you training for?"

Tension played over his jawline as he looked away.  She curved a hand over his cheek and guided him to meet her eyes.  “You don’t have to answer, Vegeta.  I’m just curious.”

“Why are you asking?”

"I mean, I understand discipline, but you…”  She shrugged.  “This is way beyond discipline. You're like a man possessed."

He was silent for a long moment before finally saying, "There's something I need to accomplish. And the only way is to train as hard as I can."

She frowned. "Have you ever heard the saying, 'work smarter, not harder'?"

He narrowed his eyes. "No."

Vicki poked him in the chest. "Don't get touchy. I'm just wondering if you have all the tools you need to train effectively. That's all."

The building tension seemed to ease somewhat. "The gravity enhancement has been useful. I don't know what else Earth can offer."

"What have you used elsewhere?"

"Other people with similar abilities. Not as powerful, but still."

"You say that like I know what your abilities are."

Vegeta lifted a brow. "What do you know?"

"That you fly. And also that you use ki to shield."

A smirk touched his lips. "Bulma hasn't enlightened you about anything else?"

She shook her head. "I haven't really asked."

"Why not? She'd tell you."

"Because I'd rather ask you.  Horse's mouth, remember?”

His cheeks went pink. “Oh.  Right.”

When Vegeta didn't say anything else, she wondered if she'd stomped too far past the comfort of his shell. The alien seemed to enjoy their verbal sparring matches as much as she did, despite his protests to the contrary. But he was hypersensitive about being helped. Maybe her assistance was unwelcome.

The parking lot came into sight. Vegeta did a long spiral over her truck, and landed softly on the ground beside the back bumper. Vicki waited for him to release her, which he did with some care, even keeping a hand on her back until he was sure she was steady enough.

Before he could turn away, she cleared her throat. "Hey, V. I didn't mean to push too far."

His brow furrowed. "What makes you think you did?"

"Because you went all quiet."

"Maybe I was just processing what you said."

"Were you?"

"Maybe."

A smile touched her lips. "Stubborn to the last."

Vegeta gave her a half smile, right as his stomach fired off with a grumble that almost echoed.

Vicki laughed. "Jesus. Just imagine if I didn't feed you all day."

He gave her a playful scowl.  "Yeah, yeah.  Growing boy, and all that."

She had to forcefully keep her eyes to herself, and not on his impressively muscled form. "What say we go check in with Miguel? See how happy he is to stuff you to the gills again."

He frowned. "You know I don't have gills, right?"

Vicki laughed and quashed the urge to hug him again. "It's just another dumb Earth saying."

"Just checking. Some aliens do, but not Saiyans."

She paused and tilted her head. "How many alien species have you met?"

"Dozens."

"Dozens?"

He nodded. "And there are lots more I never met."

She didn't know what to say. It was an entirely surreal discussion, yet she knew he wasn't lying or exaggerating. How could so many lifeforms exist without humans knowing about it?

Vegeta tilted his head toward the truck. "Are we going?"

Vicki shook herself back to present. "Yes. Yes, we are."