Hey- this is now being reposted as one story cos I'm afraid I may have left some bits out… Probably
the last from me for a while… I know it gets a bit rushed near the end, please forgive me!

Disclaimer: Not mine. (sobs)







The sky was bright and blue, the forest leafy, the sun brilliant… Small animals scampered in the
branches of the trees and through the shaded grass… Somewhere nearby, a gentle stream pattered
across smooth stones…

But of course anything this peaceful can't remain this way for long.

A swelling roar rose high in the air, a terrible thick whine of air dragging against steel, expressing the
tremendous friction as both sound and heat. A line of fire was drawn across that crystal blue sky,
widening steadily. Far distant, a second line was appearing, headed in a different direction.

SLAM!

The round steel object ploughed through several trees, leaving a raw furrow of scorched earth behind it
as it crash-landed. Fortunately the trees slowed it down enough that the ensuing explosion was kept to a
minimum.

The blue-haired girl who'd been making her way through the forest blinked in astonishment- then
began to run towards where the thing had landed. No stupid asteroid was about to get away with
ruining Bulma Briefs' relaxing morning!

She slipped quickly between the massive dark tree trunks to reach her aim in only a few minutes. There
it was! An odd ball of steel, maybe three meters in diameter, streaked with ash from it's flaming
descent. It had a design reminiscent of a tennis ball etched onto it's still-steaming surface, and a few
unidentifiable glyphs. Bulma's hands itched with curiosity, but she knew she'd have to wait for it to
cool down a bit before she could examine it more closely.

As it turned out, she didn't have to wait that long. She squeaked in shock as the ball began to open!
Discretely, she stepped back several paces to half-hide behind a tree.

A strange creature stepped unsteadily out. It seemed blue, with white armour over it's torso and
wearing white gloves and boots. It's skin-coloured head was crowned by a magnificent mane of thick,
silky, upright black hair, and a long brown tail snapped behind it. It wasn't very tall, but that hair made
up the difference, and it had a very cute face despite the scowl painted on it.

She had to have it!

It dropped into a squat, muttering to itself as it covered its face with its hands. It looked tired.

-Great,- she thought. –That'll make it easier to catch.-

Bulma leaped out from behind her tree, whipping a pokeball off her belt. "Go, Dragonair!"

The new pokemon seemed very surprised at this. It straightened immediately, taking a battle-ready
stance as the graceful dragon pokemon swayed before it.

"Dragonair, use Hyper Beam!"

Dragonair opened its mouth and shot a beam of stunning energy at the wild pokemon. The creature's
eyes widened and it leaned back, placing its open hands together, and returned fire. Its blast met
Dragonair's and, after only a moment's struggle, pushed it back. Dragonair was struck hard, toppling
backwards to fall on the soft grass, knocked out.

Surprised, Bulma returned Dragonair. That creature must be incredibly powerful, Dragonair should
have evolved long ago and yet it was knocked out in one blow! That settled it. She reached for the
empty pokeball set carefully to one side of her belt, the one that she'd been saving for something like
this.

The pokemon had spotted Bulma, and was raising a hand towards her, its eyes enraged.

Swiftly, she threw the Master Ball at it.

The expression on its face was almost comical as it was swallowed by the ultimate pokeball.

Bulma watched patiently as the Master Ball rocked around, jumping like a drop of water on a hot
griddle. Occasional bursts of steam or lightning crackled from its surface. That pokemon really didn't
like being in there! But there was no way for it to escape. Professor Oak had guaranteed that the Master
Ball would catch any pokemon, whether it was weakened or not, no matter how strong it was.

Five minutes later, it showed no signs of settling down. Bulma sat down to wait.

The sun began to sink in the sky, the shadows of the trees lengthening around her. Growing bored, she
took out another pokemon, her young Vulpix, and stroked its four tails. This Vulpix had been a gift to
her from a friend, and had only been born about six weeks ago. Its huge bright eyes gleamed in
contentment as it rested its chin on her leg.

An hour later, she decided to have dinner.



The morning found her stretching and yawning, recalling her Persian that had been guarding her new
acquisition. It hadn't settled. The ball was still spitting as fiercely as it had been last afternoon. Sighing,
she began to make breakfast.

Halfway through eating, she noticed the Master Ball being to slow down… and eventually be still.
Thinking, -finally,- she reached out towards it- and it spat violently, startling her. Nope, it wasn't done
fighting yet.



Three days later…

Greatly daring, Bulma picked up the ball. It hadn't shifted in about ten minutes, so it should be safe to
touch it now. It felt warm and vaguely static. Hopefully, now, it had accepted its new owner.

"Go!" she cried.

The pokemon appeared in a rush of blue light. It blinked, momentarily stunned, and Bulma took that
moment to notice the scorch marks, bruises and cuts all over it. It had hurt itself quite badly in its
struggles.

"Oh, you poor little thing!" she pitied, coming a few steps closer to it. It started; then, black eyes
flashing, it raised a hand towards her. Quickly she snapped, "Return!"

And dropped the pokeball before it could singe her hand.

This time, it only struggled for about an hour before the pokeball stilled. She released it once more,
standing with her arms folded as it got its bearings.

It saw her. Its hand began to raise- but then stopped. Instead it folded its arms over its broadly muscled
chest, glowering at her from under its brows.

"That's better, little fellow," she said approvingly. "Now, what on earth are you?"

"I'm a saiyan," it snapped. "To be precise, I am Prince Vegeta. And you are?"

She gaped. It could speak? Well, that was a bonus! "Hi, Saiyan," she replied after a moment. "My
name's Bulma. You and I will be great friends!"

One corner of its lips rose in a cultured sneer. "Friends, hah. Give me that ball thing before I blast your
head off."

"I don't think so." Bulma stuck her chin up a little. "You're mine now. I don't intend to let you go just
like that. You're probably one of the strongest pokemon I've ever seen, and I caught you!"

He preened a little, unconsciously, under the flattery, but the rest made him glare. "You're holding me
captive? You dare to think that you, a tiny weak thing, can hold the Prince of saiyans prisoner? I could
destroy you with my weakest attack."

Bulma chuckled. "Sure, whatever. Do you want something to eat, Saiyan?"

"Yes." Truth be told, he was voraciously hungry.

"I've got some pokemon food in my bag." She picked up her backpack, rummaging through it, and
brought out a box full of dark, tangy-smelling nutrient balls. Opening it, she offered it toward him.
"Come on. It's good."

After a tense moment, he stepped near enough to snatch the box from her, tossing all the contents into
his mouth at one gulp- then choking and hacking for several minutes. "You're trying to poison me!" he
gasped out, his eyes watering.

"I am not!" she defended herself. "What's wrong with it?"

"It's dry, flavourless, badly made, unappealing to the eye, and has a most offensive odour," he
catalogued. "Also there wasn't enough of it. I require at least ten times that amount of food at a
sitting."

Bulma glared at him. "You ungrateful little beast. That was supposed to feed all of my pokemon for the
time it's gonna take to get to the nearest city, you scoff it all, and then you have the nerve to complain
about it!"

His eyes flashed.

"Return!"

Again, she dropped the pokeball.



She didn't touch that pokeball again until the next day, when she ran into a trainer and was challenged
to a pokemon battle. Dragonair had already knocked out three of her opponent's pokemon, and she
decided to try out her Saiyan's battle style.

"Go, Saiyan!" she yelled.

Vegeta leapt out of his pokeball, glaring at the young woman behind him. "What the fBEEP do you
want?" He didn't appear to notice the censorship effect.

The other trainer stared. She'd never seen one of those before. She whipped out a pokedex to check it
out.

"Saiyan," the machine said. "Little is known about this extremely rare, very elusive, and generally bad-
tempered pokemon. Take extreme caution in approaching it- it is one of the most powerful creatures
and is known to kill or maim people for little to no reason."

The Saiyan laughed. "Hey, that's pretty accurate!"

The Kangaskhan standing in front of him cringed slightly.

"Mmm…" Looks like dinner, Vegeta thought. He was just about having stomach cramps.

Bulma saw that look in his eyes. "If you kill it, you're staying in your pokeball for a week."

"Kangaskhan, use Comet Punch!" the other trainer yelled.

The hefty pokemon drew one mighty paw back, a blazing aura of power gloving it, and then slammed
it toward the saiyan. He avoided the blow with one neat twitch of his head.

"Use your Hyper Beam, Saiyan!" Bulma commanded.

He turned back to her to growl, "Do not give me commands, weak woman. I'll tear you all to pieces."
He didn't see the tan fist once more pounding toward him- but neither did he notice the blow when it
struck. The Kangaskhan, in contrast, wailed in pain and clutched at it's wounded hand. "What do you
mean, Hyper Beam? What sort of an attack is that?"

"You know, you used it on my Dragonair!" At his look of confusion, she qualified, "The big blue
pokemon that attacked you when I first saw you."

"That's just a simple ki blast," he shrugged. "Nothing fancy."

Several more times during this little conversation, fists struck him, but he didn't pay any attention to
them. The other trainer was starting to get offended.

"So what attacks can you use?"

He stuck his chin up. "I have mastered many ki techniques. My most powerful ones are Gatling Gun
and Gallick Gun. I have also mastered hand-to-hand fighting. I can punch or kick or elbow or backhand
anything I wish to, at speeds undetectable to such weak eyes as your own. If there is a full moon I can
transform into my Oozaru shape, where all of my attacks have their power increased by a factor of
ten."

"Wow," she said, impressed. "But that's more than four. How can you remember them all?"

The saiyan sniffed. "I can learn as many attack forms as I wish. Four, hmph!"

"Well, use one of your Gun attacks on that thing."

"It can't have a power level of more than fifty. I'll not waste such effort on it." He turned to the
Kangaskhan- still futilely trying to even gain his attention- and kneed it in the guts, barely missing the
baby in it's pouch. It keeled over, knocked out.

Spitting with anger, the other trainer called out her most powerful pokemon- a Jigglypuff.

Vegeta laughed out loud. "I'm supposed to fight that thing? What a joke!"

"Jigglypuff, sing!"

The Jigglypuff lifted a microphone and began singing, it's eyes lighting up.

Bulma yawned- then pinched herself to wake up properly.

"Saiyan, punch it!"

But Vegeta wasn't listening to her. His eyes were half-lidded at the pleasant sound. He was so tired, no
food energy to sustain him, he hadn't been able to sleep in that confined space, and he just wanted to
rest! With a huge yawn he sat down, then his head nodded forward.

"Jigglypuff, pound!"

But the trainer hadn't waited quite long enough. When Jigglypuff stopped singing long enough to try
pounding the saiyan, his eyes snapped open and, with some irritation, he slapped the pink puffball into
a nearby tree. How dare it stop that pleasing noise!

The Jigglypuff slowly slid down the tree trunk, definitely out of the fight. Vegeta stood, dusting
himself free of the leaf litter he'd picked up during his brief sojourn to the forest floor.

"Can I eat it now?" he growled at Bulma. Panicking, the other trainer returned her Jigglypuff and ran
away.



Reluctantly, Bulma released her Saiyan once more.

Vegeta blinked, taking stock- almost sunset, still in forest, big herd of deer in front of him- and turned
to the irritating blue-haired woman. "What now?"

She shook her head, not believing she was doing this. "You can kill one of these. One of the injured
ones." The herd of Stantler had evidently been through something; most of them were exhausted and a
few trailing behind the others were injured. Well, her new Pokemon needed to eat!

In ten minutes they were sitting in front of a campfire, Vegeta neatly dismembering his prey. He'd
killed it the same way, neatly; a small beam of energy right between the eyes. She shivered at the way
he'd occasionally stop what he was doing to lick the blood from his gloved fingers with obvious relish.

When he'd got several choice cuts roasting on sticks, he grumbled, "I thought you were intending to
starve me to death."

"Why would I do that?" Bulma grinned cheerfully. "I would like you to be better behaved, but that's a
stupid way to go about it!" She slipped another pokeball from her belt, noticing Vegeta's wary start,
and released Vulpix.

The Saiyan raised a sculpted brow. "What is that thing? Is it my dessert?"

She chuckled, starting to get used to his attitude. "No, Saiyan. This is my Vulpix! Isn't she cute? Her
fur is really soft. You wanna feel?" She offered the little creature up, and with a bemused frown,
Vegeta accepted it.

He seemed to have forgotten she was watching as he held the small animal, peering into it's dark huge
eyes, studying it carefully. Holding her in one hand, he lifted the other to his mouth to pull off his
samite glove with his teeth, then his smooth hand came to rest on the young Vulpix's tender belly. He
frowned slightly, rubbing his fingers through the fur. "You breed this things for the furs, then?" he
asked almost absently.

"No!" she yelped. "Saiyan, I keep this particular one because she's cute, because she's good company,
and because she's gonna be a great battler when she's full-grown."

Nodding, he tossed it to her.

The Vulpix yelped as Bulma scrambled to catch it. Then, having secured her terrified pokemon, she
yelled, "How dare you! You could have hurt her! Now she's petrified, she'll barely move, you…" she
proceeded to swear at him.

Typically, he smirked. "I could have ripped it's guts out through it's aBEEEP while I was holding it,
but I didn't." He frowned. "What?"

"Huh?"

"When I said aBEEEP- look, it fBEEPing did it again! Why the BEEP can't I BEEPing swear?!" He
was getting quite frustrated.

Bulma giggled. "Oh, that's the censorship effect."

"What the- what is a censorship effect?"

"You can't swear like that. See, if you say BEEP, it doesn't work. But you can do this." She lifted her
voice, and favoured him with a few choice oaths.

He blinked, his ears ringing. "I can't believe you said that, you vicious little BEEP…"

"No, no, no! You're being too specific!"

"Huh?" Then, grinning, he got the idea. He took a deep breath and proceeded to cuss her up one side
and down the other, smirking triumphantly.

Bulma blinked, actually hurt by his verbal abuse- but soon realised he wasn't actually putting his heart
into it.

Having mastered this new skill, Vegeta reached for a slab of Stantler meat and dug into it, while Bulma
soothed Vulpix. The meat was good, rich and rare, tender with it's own juices- a good meal for a
healthy Saiyan. Within a few minutes he'd eaten half the beast and was slowing down. His usually
insatiable appetite was oddly satiable.

Bulma squealed suddenly. Looking up, Vegeta saw-

"Another Saiyan!" the woman yelled, delighted.

Ignoring her, Nappa approached Vegeta. "Are you well, my Prince?"

Vegeta opened his mouth- and closed it. What was he going to say? 'This ugly woman here is
controlling me with some pissy little ball, I can't get away, and she's forcing me to follow her orders?'
Not a possibility. Even his slavery to Frieza was more dignified than this. Instead he gestured with the
bone he was holding to the remains of his meal. "The meat's good, if you want some. I'm full."

Nappa absently grabbed a haunch and started ripping into it, spraying shreds of meat all around. His
Prince winced in distaste. After all these years, his bodyguard had never managed to surpass the eating
quality of a starving beast.

Naturally, Bulma had already decided that she wanted to capture this Saiyan as well. She discretely
returned Vulpix, then stood authoritatively. "Vegeta! Thunderpunch it!"

Slowly, menacingly, Vegeta turned. "Woman, you…"

She thrust his pokeball forward. "You want to stay in this all week? Punch it!"

Vegeta closed his eyes, not believing this… then turned and struck Nappa with a ki-gloved fist.

The stricken Saiyan swayed, then stared at his Prince. "My Prince? Have I offended?"

"Now, use Gatling Gun, Saiyan!"

"I'll not!" he roared defiantly, rounding on her. "BEEP it, woman! I'm not your slave!"

The blue-haired woman stood forward, her slim form radiating authority. "Do it NOW, Saiyan!"

There was a futile burning in his throat. Damn you, woman… damn that stupid ball… damn every
person who's made it possible for me to take orders…

Hand-sized bolts of ki energy began darting from him, each striking Nappa harshly, until the other
saiyan had fallen to his knees in pain and submission.

"My Prince… my Prince?" Nappa gasped- and as he was falling forward, Bulma threw an Ultra Ball at
him. Not as powerful a pokeball as the Master Ball, but certainly the next closest thing. This Saiyan
was weaker than hers, and injured. It should suffice.

The bald saiyan was sucked into the pokeball.

A harsh sigh slipped from Vegeta's lips. He slumped to the ground where he'd been standing, his face
sinking into his hands.

Bulma walked over to him. "Are you tired, Vegeta? That attack looked pretty exhausting."

Slowly, he looked up. His eyes were burning. "You have no idea what you've done, woman. No idea."

She took a step back from the force of his gaze.

"Woman, you have just forced me, against my very will, to deliver one of the few remaining members
of my race into the same cursed slavery I seem now bound." His voice cracked on the last words, and
his sharp teeth bit cruelly into his lower lip. A tiny trickle of blood ran down his chin. His frame shook
with emotion as he hissed, "Do you understand!?!"

Bulma shivered slightly… and took a seat, crosslegged, in front of him. "No, Vegeta, I don't. I'm just a
human, a pokemon trainer for the time being, a scientist by choice. I didn't catch you to make you a
slave. That's not what I want from you."

He did not instantly strike her down. She interpreted that correctly- he was listening.

"You see, the thing about pokemon and pokemon trainers, is that they teach eachother. You teach me
how to be a better trainer. I teach you how to fight better. We develop eachother's personalities. We
become friends, partners, bound by common respect and admiration."

Coal-black eyes darted a sideways look at her. "You have no personality, have earned no respect or
admiration, are not worthy of partnership, and cannot impart any fighting ability. What do I stand to
gain from this?"

Bulma fought back tears. That was possibly one of the cruellest things anybody had ever said to her.

Vegeta looked away, a slight sneer on his lips.

"I can help you," she said in a small voice. "Really. I can make you a better fighter."

He drew himself up a bit. "How exactly do you propose to do that? You know that I am one of the
strongest fighters in the universe."

"You get stronger after every battle," she explained. "You make levels, you learn new and more
powerful attacks, you might even evolve in time."

He sneered. "A Saiyan grows stronger when he is defeated in battle. These creatures are so weak that
destroying takes no effort for me. How will that aid me? Can you find some that are strong enough to at
least be competition?"

"Of course. You're not that much stronger than the other pokemon you've seen; my Pokedex says your
level is only 50. Fighting them…"

Vegeta stood and began powering up, to about half his full strength. Blue flames blasted powerfully
around him, though he did not allow them to touch the woman. "What does your stupid device say
now?" he demanded. He was more than a little irritated at being told his power level was only 50, not
realising that level and power level were not necessarily the same thing.

She checked. "Hey, 150! How did you do that? You just went up one hundred levels!" She was truly
astounded. "Hey, this is like… sorta like some of my friends back home… they got more powerful
before they actually fought."

"150!!!" It should be at least 150,000! To test his strength he raised a hand and blasted a nearby tree.
Every single leaf blew off in a smokey explosion, leaving the tree with it's outer few layers of bark
singed off. It should have been completely vaporised. Maybe his power level had actually been reduced
a thousand-fold… maybe that stupid ball weakened him, maybe it was this planet's air. He didn't
know.

"Hey, that's pretty impressive."

He muttered the truth. "That thing should be dust. I must be weakened in some way. This stupid planet
is making me weak."

Bulma considered that. "How much weaker are you?"

Reluctantly, he answered, "I seem to be at no more than one thousandth part of my former strength. It
is unexplainable."

One thousandth! She almost choked. Then an idea occurred to her. "Hey, if you're that much weaker
here, and you get stronger, say you gain another fifty levels…"

He looked thoughtful. "When I get free of this sBEEPhole, my true power level will be increased by
fifty thousand! Very adequate training. When do you begin?"



They talked long into the night, discussing his moves, training tactics, and many other lesser matters.
When she finally unrolled her blanket and made ready to sleep, she looked up at him from the ground.

"Vegeta?"

"Hmph?"

He was leaning against a tree, his profile handsome by moonlight. "Do you want to sleep in your
pokeball tonight, or would you rather stand watch?"

He was silent for a moment. Such a question seemed to indicate that she trusted him. He was not used
to that. Then: "I'm not getting back in that thing voluntarily."

Bulma nodded. "Okay then. Goodnight, Vegeta." She crawled underneath her blankets.



Some time later she awoke. The air was nippy with an early morning frost. The moon had barely set,
she could still see it's glow on the horizon. And there was Vegeta standing against his tree, looking
half-asleep and shivering with the bitter cold. She thought to herself, lying there in her half-asleep
state: -he'll only do that if he doesn't think anyone'll see him. Poor Vegeta, he must be so cold-

"Come here, Vegeta," she invited quietly.

He stirred a little, then, almost shyly, approached. She lifted the side of her blanket, wincing at the
chill. "C'mon, get under here. I can't have my best pokemon catching a cold now, can I?"

"Saiyans don't catch your weak diseases," he snorted. But it didn't stop him from climbing under the
blanket with her.

And, when she woke in the morning, he was snuggled up close to her.



Bulma proudly showed the two pokeballs to her friend, Professor Oak. "See, these have pokemon
called Saiyans in them," she boasted. "They're really strong, I've been fighting with them for two
weeks and they haven't lost a battle yet. Here, I'll show you Vegeta. He's the stronger one."

Vegeta appeared, glaring, from his pokeball. "What is it now, woman?" he spat wearily. He was getting
very, very sick of this whole thing.

"It can talk?" the professor asked, impressed. "Well, well, very good." He took out a pokedex, allowing
it to absorb information about Vegeta. "Not bad at all."

Coal-black eyes flashed toward Bulma. "You usually don't give me humans to eat, but can I at least
kill it?"

"No. Don't be silly."

His eyes flashed. Ignoring the professor who was shining a penlight into his eyes, measuring his height,
and examining his hair all at the same time, he growled softly and hissed, "How much longer is this
pitiful charade going to continue?"

Sighing, Bulma patted Vegeta's cheek. "You just don't get it, Veggie. You're mine, it's that simple. I
caught you."

Overhead, lightning cracked.

Oak looked up warily. "The weather's turning nasty. My Oddish survey can wait until tomorrow night,
I think. Shall we head back to the lab? I'll fix dinner for you and your pokemon, Bulma, and you guys
can have a rest."

"Thanks," she smiled. "But you don't realise how much Saiyans eat. It's running –my- bank account
dry to feed these two."

"There's an easy solution to that," Vegeta muttered.

She snapped back, "Yeah, I can not feed you. Darn it, Veggie, Nappa's learnt to obey me, why can't
you?"

"Nappa's a weak warrior. He's born to take orders. I'm a Prince! I'm born to give them, woman!"

The lightning storm was right overhead now. Vegeta looked up at it, smiling slightly, and took off.
Ignoring Bulma's cries, he flew up into the clouds and tried to catch some lightning bolts. This was a
very popular recreation on his home planet, Vegeta-sei. He spun and cavorted among the heavy black
clouds, feeling the electrical energy crackle along his skin.

He landed a few minutes later, his entire body snapping and crawling with blue sparks as though he
was powering up. A small grin lifted his lips. That had been fun.

"You didn't tell me you could fly!" Bulma yelled. "And you could have been hurt!"

Laughing disdainfully, he commented, "All saiyans can fly. And I could not be hurt in a storm like that.
I've been playing in them since I was a babe." His far-seeing eyes, still searching the clouds, noted a
strange ball of energy ducking in and out of them- making its way over towards them. "Something's
coming," he announced.

Sure enough, a moment later, a large white and purple feline dropped down in front of them. It looked
vaguely like Frieza.

:Prince Vegeta,: it said telepathically, all three present hearing it clearly. :My cousin has been looking
for you. You haven't completed your mission yet, and he grows impatient.:

"Sod that for a game of cards," Vegeta shrugged. "It's not possible for me to do that at the moment," he
clarified.

Mewtwo frowned. :He will not be pleased.:

Taking one of the biggest chances of his life, Vegeta said coolly, "And? I'm not taking orders from that
ugly three-toed freak any longer. And you can go do something anatomically impossible to yourself,
too."

The psychic feline took a step backward. :He'll be here in a week to rectify your attitude, Almighty
Prince of Saiyans,: it mocked. :You have that long to prepare yourself.: Its message given, Mewtwo
took off again, vanishing into the depths of the stormcloud once more.

"Oh, BEEP," Vegeta breathed, slowly falling to his knees. It had been a long time since he'd been this
scared.

Bulma put her hand lightly on his shoulder, and became truly worried when he didn't brush it off or
slap it away. "What was that all about, Veggie?"

He ran a shuddering hand over his face. "I've just signed my own death warrant."

"I thought you didn't take orders from anybody."

The saiyan suddenly surged upright. "I have no choice about taking orders from you; you use that
pokeball to control me. I had no choice but to take orders from Frieza; he used the fact that he was a
thousand times as strong as me to control me. You see, it takes –me- effort to destroy a planet with one
blast."

She smiled tenderly at him. "Poor Veggie. It must have been terrible for you."

He facefaulted briefly, then resumed moping- a look so unusual for him that Bulma had to fight back
her giggles. "He'll kill me in an instant for this."

"No he won't!" Bulma announced determinedly. "We've got a week, right? In that time we can train
really hard, and make you a whole bunch stronger! Plus you'll be used to fighting at a reduced power
level, and he won't."

Vegeta snorted. "Those work in my favour, true. But you don't understand how powerful Frieza is."



Despite Vegeta's protests that he was doomed, Bulma went about her little plan.

"Rare candies? What're rare candies?" Vegeta demanded. "I'm not eating anything until you tell me
what's in it."

She chuckled. "Not likely. I'm one of the three people in the world who knows the recipe for rare
candies. It's a sacred trust!" She stirred the mysteriously bubbly and gloopy pot. She had a mould set
up for them, then decided that he might just as well drink the sludge before it set. "Now, Veggie, you'll
need to eat say five potfuls of this each day until that guy gets here. This is a hugely excessive use, and
I wouldn't do this casually, but this seems pretty important!"

[For those of you who aren't big pokemon fans, rare candies increase your pokemon's level by one,
permanently. You find about half a dozen through the entire gameboy game.]

When the pot had cooled enough, she gave it to Vegeta, who (reluctantly) drank the whole concoction
down.

He instantly felt himself strengthened, giving an unrestrained whoop of delight at how easy it was to
become more powerful. This would be fun!



After four days of drinking rare candy sludge and training against the hapless Nappa, Vegeta was at
least three times as strong as he had been when he set foot on the planet. He was very impressed by
this, but knew deep down that it wouldn't be enough.

Bulma sat somewhat despondently in front of her campfire on the fifth morning, stroking Vulpix's soft
fur. Remembering the fight they'd had last night.

When Vegeta had disobeyed her yet again, she'd sat him down and lectured him on the proper
behaviour of a pokemon. The saiyan had sat, listening quietly, until she wore down to a halt: then
yelled at her so loudly and furiously that her ears nearly bled. Telling her that he was a person just like
her (except better of course) not a pokemon. Had anyone ever used a Master Ball on a human? They'd
probably have been caught the same way that he was. That this whole thing was a repulsive form of
slavery. That she should be ashamed.

She was.

The instant he'd finished yelling, she returned him, afraid of what he might do. Then winced when she
realised that she'd just effectively proved his point. He was a person. She didn't have any right to
confine him in this way. It was slavery.

His pokeball was sitting on her waist. It had been dreadfully still since last night. Bulma was very
worried about what might happen when she let him out.

But this wasn't right. Sighing, she acknowledged that it was time to let her Saiyans go.

She took Nappa's pokeball out first, calling him out. The bulky bald saiyan stood expectantly before
her. "Yes, Bulma?" he asked. "Do you want me to fight something for you?"

"No, Nappa." She bit her lip, uncertain- then made up her mind. She thrust his pokeball toward him.
"Here. This is yours. You can go now."

The Saiyan snatched the pokeball as if worried that she'd take it back if he left it too long. Tossing it up
in the air, he fired a small blast at it, and it disintegrated into a pile of ash. He looked back at her. "And
my Prince? What of him?"

"He'll join you shortly," Bulma admitted.

Starting to leave, Nappa looked over his shoulder. "Thank you." He vanished through the trees before
she could reply.

Once she was sure he was gone, Bulma set about making up another pot of sludge. When it was done
she released Vegeta.

The Saiyan Prince looked at her once, his eyes both cold and wounded, then glanced away with a tiny
sneer on his face. Hurt, Bulma pointed at the pot. "That's ready to eat, Vegeta. Go ahead, you'll need
it."

He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it. He picked up the pot and drank the contents in three
gulps. Putting it down and wiping his mouth, he growled, "There. Now you can put me back in my
pokeball and forget about me."

Bulma closed her eyes. He sure wasn't making this any easier on her! "I have a present for you." She
tossed his pokeball at him.

Reflexively he caught it. Turned it over in his long-fingered hands. Looked up at her with burning eyes.
"A gift? You give me, as a gift, the means to place yet another creature into this same slavery that I am
suffering? You…" His eyes widened slightly as he glanced at it a second time. "This is mine?"

She nodded. "You were right."

Still staring at the pokeball, Vegeta chewed on his lip… and turned, blasting away.



Vegeta had no idea what to do now. That stupid woman… how dare she confuse him like this! It felt
very good to be free. The first time in possibly his entire life that he wasn't following somebody's
orders.

But he felt like he was doing the wrong thing now. He hated to admit it, but the woman's training was
actually helpful. He was hugely more powerful than he'd ever been. Still not strong enough to defeat
Frieza in the battle three days hence, but a lot stronger. And… if he had the choice, the woman was
someone he didn't mind spending time around. Her cocky, arrogant attitude was appealing in an odd
way.

He landed firmly on the earth, now walking, holding and regarding his pokeball. This thing had put
him through so much trouble… but for some reason he couldn't bring himself to destroy it. Surely all it
would take would be one ki blast.

As he was pacing, trying to decide what to do, he heard a rustle in the bushes, and sensed Nappa's
presence before his bodyguard emerged. "Hail, Nappa," he said wearily.

"My Prince," greeted the other saiyan. "So, we have our freedom, huh?"

Vegeta sat down on a fallen log [gees those things are convenient] and sighed, his melancholy apparent
to even such a dense person as Nappa.

"What's wrong, my Prince?"

Wiping a hand across his forehead, Vegeta replied, "I don't know. This whole thing is stupid. I should
just blast this planet into oblivion and forget about it. If I time it just right, I should be able to catch
Frieza in the blast."

"That sounds like a good plan to me, sir."

"That's because you have the brains of a peanut, Nappa."

"Yes, sir."

Vegeta glared at him, somewhat annoyed that the other saiyan hadn't even objected to the insult. Had
he no pride? Then realised he was missing the fights he had with Bulma. That blue-haired bitch was
messing with his mind. He'd been gone all of ten minutes and already he was thinking of going back.

"Sir, I was wondering, is there enough time before we leave for me to duck back and pick up Bulma?"

"What!?!" Vegeta snapped.

Nappa hung his head. "Well my Prince, I find her quite attractive. If you have no further use for her
I'm minded to keep her."

Without thinking about it Vegeta punched him on the point of the chin. The taller saiyan swayed once
or twice, then fell, impressively. Blinking, Vegeta looked at his fist. Yes, that was him, being
protective.

Picking himself up from the ground, Nappa readjusted his jaw and said, "I'm sorry my Prince, I did not
realise you desired her."

Vegeta sank back to his seat, cursing in a soft, vicious voice. "I've really done it. I've really fallen for
her."

"Are you going back?" Nappa asked quietly.

A deep sigh escaped Vegeta's lips. "I don't know." Taking the pokeball out from his armour, he toyed
with it, rolling it between his palms.

The other saiyan watched him. "Those things are not difficult to destroy from the outside, your
Highness."

"I'm not going to destroy it," Vegeta mumbled. "That wouldn't prove anything. This dumb little ball is
just a means to an end. I've a feeling that the dumb wench would have captured me just as surely, had
we met some other way." Realising what he had just said, he glanced quickly up at Nappa to tell
whether the larger saiyan had heard him.

Nappa was looking innocently away. Sensing his Prince's regard he turned back to him. "I should not
remain here then, my Prince. It is not proper for me to stay this close to a woman that we both desire. I
shall seek out the planet we were instructed to purge, it should make a sufficient dwelling place."

Vegeta nodded. "You do that."



However, Nappa did not make his way straight to his spaced. As soon as he was out of Vegeta's sight,
he raised a hand to his scouter, tapping a new button on its side.

He knew that his former mistress was very smart, far smarter than he could ever hope to be. When he'd
showed her his scouter, she'd taken it apart with great enthusiasm, then put it back together again. It
worked better. And she'd showed him a new thing that she'd added, a tiny sound recorder. With a tiny
tape in it, but long enough to capture, say, one conversation.

The bulky saiyan wasn't very smart, but he was loyal, and Bulma had been a kind enough Mistress to
him that he thought she deserved a going-away present.

He hid the scouter away where she wouldn't find it until morning.



Vegeta didn't go straight back to the campsite, despite his words. He spent most of the day sitting in
the low branches of a tree, musing, and picking off wild Pokemon with tiny blasts of ki. The casual
violence helped distract him.

By the time night fell, he'd made up his mind… but he didn't move until the moon had almost set.
Then, decisively, he blasted into the air, landing meters away from where Bulma lay sleeping. He
studied her with what was almost a smile on his lips. She looked so peaceful and beautiful there… he'd
never tell her that, but he knew it was true. He remembered a few weeks ago, being invited to share her
bedroll because he was cold.

He looked at the pokeball in his hand, gathering the courage to do this…

Squatted down to put it in her sleep-relaxed hand, watching her fingers curl around it. Touched it and
zapped inside.



Bulma woke slowly, gradually becoming more aware of the hard lump in her pillow. Finally she sat up,
putting the pokeball in her hand down to rummage around inside her pillowcase.

Nappa's scouter?

She turned it over, wondering why on earth it would be in her pillowcase. Noticing the small blinking
light on the side, she realised that there was a message recorded in it. She punched in the sequence to
play it back.

N: Those things are not difficult to destroy from the outside, your Highness.

V: I'm not going to destroy it. That wouldn't prove anything. This dumb little ball is just a means to an
end. I've a feeling that the dumb wench would have captured me just as surely, had we met some other
way.

The tape fizzed into silence, leaving one very confused Bulma. She couldn't believe that Vegeta felt
that way about her. It just didn't make sense. Did it?

Idly, she picked up the pokeball that she'd been holding. Then blinked at it. It was a Master Ball. And
it was full.

"Go," she whispered.

A disshevelled Vegeta appeared, yawning and raking a hand through his hair. "What is it this time,
woman?"

"You… you came back? Vegeta, I gave you this because…"

He cut her off brusquely. "Can't have that little thing falling into the wrong hands. Now, we've missed
a whole day of training because of this sentimental drivel. Gotta make up for missed time."

Standing, she touched his cheek lightly. "Thank you, Vegeta."

He didn't reply, but he didn't turn away from her touch, either.



Vegeta threw himself furiously into his training over the next two days, preparing for the upcoming
battle.



Frieza didn't waste any time on conversation. As soon as he arrived, a blast took Vegeta by surprise.
Bulma quickly retreated behind a tree, watching but trying to avoid any danger.

For a few minutes, Vegeta held his own quite well, but then it became apparent that Frieza was toying
with him. Especially when he blasted through all of his forms to reach his ultimate shape, blithely
stating that the Prince of a dying race deserved that much respect at least.

A casual blow knocked Vegeta to the ground, coughing up blood.

Bulma saw how badly he was hurt and rushed out, wielding a small spray-bottle. Vegeta batted her
hand away, but she silenced him with a fierce glare, spraying the substance on him. Instantly Vegeta
felt better, leaping into the air to do battle once more.

After the third repitition of this, Frieza decided that this little healing issue had to be taken care of. He
streaked away from Vegeta's furious fists, grabbing Bulma by the neck…

Bad mistake.

Vegeta screamed in wordless rage, a golden aura flashing suddenly around him.

[As we all can bear witness, Frieza doesn't stand much of a chance against a Super Saiyan- and Vegeta
doesn't play around like some other SSJs we could mention. What do YOU think happened?]



Picking the last bit of mysterious purple insides from her hair, Bulma grinned at Vegeta, throwing her
arms around his neck with happiness. "That was such a wonderful battle, Veggie! I can't believe you
evolved!"

"Huh?" Now that he didn't need this power any more, Vegeta lowered his ki, dropping back into his
normal state. He knew that he'd be able to achieve SSJ again any time he needed to. A quiet sense of
pride filled him. He'd fulfilled the prophecies, becoming the first saiyan in a thousand years to reach
this hallowed state.

Bulma looked at him, worried. "Veggie? What just happened? You- you devolved!"

He smirked at her. "Evolved, devolved, those don't apply to me. I'm not a pokemon, remember?" She
was still clinging to him, her scent pleasant. Vegeta felt his common sense wave goodbye as he
wrapped a strong arm about her slender waist, and used his other hand to brush strands of sea-blue hair
away from her fragile neck.

Bulma gasped in surprise at the saiyan's lips on her neck- then cried out wordlessly as his sharp teeth
sank into her tender flesh. The way he suckled at the small wounds felt incredibly good. Then he sealed
them with a rasp of his tongue, pulling back to gaze deeply into her eyes.

"What… what did you do?" she breathed. Then, giving in to her evil temptations, kissed him
passionately.

[Again… what do YOU think happened? Sorry, this time around, you don't get the details. That's that
BEEPing censorship effect again!]



After, nestled in a bed of leaves, Bulma asked Vegeta's chest, "So what are we going to do now?"

There was one obvious answer. "The same thing again?" he answered hopefully.

"Seven times is enough!" she snapped, smacking him lightly on the arm. "Bad Veggie! But really, what
are we going to do?"

He toyed with a lock of her silken hair. "What do you want to do? I have no home, no family, nothing
to live for but the pleasure of killing and of making you scream my name."

"I want to go home," she whispered.

"Sure. How far away is it? I'll fly you there."

"I don't know. This isn't where I come from." She explained to him how she came from a different
planet, and had been toying with her latest invention- a transportation device, instantaneous transport
finally solved by Bulma Briefs!- but that something had apparently gone wrong with the co-ordinates.
She'd ended up here, a year ago, not knowing where she was in relation to her home planet, not having
any way to get back…

"Easy done," Vegeta smirked. "My space pod is intact. What's the name of your planet?"

She looked up at him with a spark of hope in her eyes. "Chikyuu-sei."

Vegeta bit his lip. That was the name of the planet that they had been sent to purge, before a meteor
storm sent them crashing into this planet. The planet that Nappa would soon be clearing for himself to
rule. "Ah… We can go there, but we'd best hurry if you want to see it the way it was when you left."



It was a little crowded in the spacepod… but they made the best of the situation.



The spacepod door opened, and Bulma spilled out, laughing with delight to smell the air and feel the
ground of her own home planet again!

Vegeta exited a little more cautiously, sniffing at the air, straining to sense any nearby kis. He perked
up when he realised that there were some powerful kis around. –Ah, competition!- he thought
gleefully.

Waving a cheery hello to the farmer whose fields they'd just destroyed, deciding that Capsule Corps
would compensate the man as soon as she got home, Bulma wrapped an arm around Vegeta's neck.
"Take me home?"

He nodded dutifully, swinging her up into his arms. Bulma pointed the way, and Vegeta noted, "The
kis I sense are over there. Are you family strong?"

"No," she frowned, "But I have some strong friends. They might be having a party or something."

"There's a saiyan's ki there. Do you know…" He frowned, remembering something. "There was
another saiyan who arrived at this planet about a year ago. Do you know what happened to him?"

Bulma frowned, trying to remember. There was something… she'd seen something… Then she
giggled. "I remember when a pod like yours came out of the sky near Kame House. It didn't open
though, cos a giant whale swallowed it! Was that a saiyan?"

A smirk regained its place on Vegeta's lips. "Yeah. So that's what happened to him, huh? It was
thought that some powerful warrior had taken him out, that's why two Elites were sent to this planet to
purge it. They wouldn't normally send a Prince and his bodyguard for some little backwater like this!"

As he launched, Bulma said doubtfully, "You're supposed to 'purge' this planet?"

Vegeta shrugged. "Shouldn't take more than a few days. I mean…" He noticed the look on Bulma's
face. "Course I'm not gonna do that now. But, um, that saiyan is probably Nappa, and he doesn't
realise this is your planet."

Her eyes widened. "Then hurry up!"



A few minutes later Vegeta landed lightly outside of Capsule Corps, where all of the Z team were lined
up against Nappa. As his feet touched the ground Nappa casually tore the head from Yamcha's
shoulders, laughing with delight at the fountaining blood while Puar screamed in terror.

[Sorry Yamcha fans… I just really DON'T like the man. I have nothing against Puar, though.]

"Nappa!" Bulma snapped. All heads turned to her in surprise.

Nappa slowly dropped the decapitated body on the ground.

Wriggling out of Vegeta's arms, Bulma snapped, "Nappa, stop right there! That's bad!"

The big saiyan scuffled a foot in the dirt. "Yes, Bulma-san."

"What's going on?" a confused little Gohan, looking gorgeous with his long hair and little Piccolo
outfit. The tall Namek laid a protective hand on his shoulder, looking suspiciously at Bulma.

"I'd like to hear that question answered, too," he rumbled. "And who is that other saiyan?"

The others- Goku, Tien, and Chaotzu- quickly added their curiosity.

Bulma leaned back onto Vegeta's strong chest. "Well guys… this is a really long story…"










There it is! See you guys when I have a new computer! Apologies for anyone I've pissed off, and if
you want more stories from me, I'll give you my name and address so you can send me a check for my
new 'puter. Please? Still loving the reviews!

Later- angelicorn.