A/N: The long-awaited chapter is finally here-- (Kinoha is mauled by angry mob!)Mob: It took you almost fucking half a year to update this shit and then you present us with meager, one, short chapter!!

Kinoha: Uh... I uh... was busy with college and work?


Kinoha: Okay okay okay... sheesh... Give girl a break...


Kinoha: EEP! ( Starts writing furiously while the mob stand behind her with torches and pitchforks )

Disclaimer: Mob: Kinoha's too busy writing (all evil eyes glare at her to make sure she doesn't stop) so we're making the disclaimer. She doesn't own. If she did the Shuiesha and Akira Toriyama would have fired her for being so disregarding of the dead line...


The Replacement

Chapter XX: Aftermath

It was truly any PR-manager's nightmare: the aftermath of the Gala to deal with. The Prince's unexpected date for the night, the eventful destruction of the grand hall, three assassin changing sides and the Prince's order to keep everything quiet and in good public order. In short it was mission impossible for any normal people but a Saiyajin PR-manager in charge of the Royal family's general promotion and such wasn't any people but a desperately driven, practically a raving manic kudos to fearing for his life because the PR-manager's job on Vegetasei was the one of the most hazardous there was. The current life expectancy was in the job, after all, was little over one month.

But maybe this unnamed PR-manager will be saved for Vegeta truly had something else on his mind at the moment than the current PR crisis...

Vegeta woke up feeling unreasonably happy, in his royal king-sized bed like he always did except he had a terrible hangover, there was a weird buzz in his head and he was feeling the effects of the Saiyajin liquor to the fullest. Despite all this, which normally made him horribly tempered and pissed off for next two days, he was content and happy.

The Saiyajin monarch blinked in confusion at this all and stared at the ceiling. There was a black hole in his memory; after the assassin trio had changed sides Vegeta had commanded the ball to continue and talked with the three of their future payment and information acquiring skills. Then he had gotten wasted with the blue-haired genius because she dared him and then his memory went blank.

He wondered what had happened but his answer came before he could ponder more and it almost made him scream and jump through the roof.

" Morning Veggie..."

Vegeta could only stare blankly at the cutely sleepy, naked, feminine, blue-haired Saiyajin woman curled at his side quite happily snuggling his muscled arm.

With his fresh teeth marks on the juncture of her neck and shoulder.

" ...shit..." he managed out weakly. Bulma kept sleeping soundly.

He had not just only made her the Queen of all Saiyajins but also bonded to her as the weird sensation of her complicated presence in his head grew.

" ...double shit..."

He could barely stand the woman! She was so ugly... so special... so oddly colored... The Royal Council was so gonna be on his ass for this, big time.

"...triple shit..."

Vegeta then did the only sensible thing to do in the situation: he went back to sleep, wrapping his arms around her soft and curvy form. Sleeping on this problem sounded very good and that was exactly what he did.


High commander Kakarotto had just experienced the most horrible night he ever had. There were bags under his eyes, his expression tight and on the brink of snapping into feral scowl any second. The cause of his state was not his mysterious illness nor any drink he might of enjoyed at the ball. He swore the worthless kitchen slave did in on purpose so he'd be as miserable as a Saiyajin male could get. He growled menacingly and buried his head into a pillow on the couch.

ChiChi had drunk quite a bit; never had had the chance to experience any drinks with alcohol before in her life so she had gotten quite drunk after the hassle with the assassins was cleared. Sometime well after midnight after getting enough amusement watching his prince and Bulma make asses of themselves while drunk he had practically carried her to their apartment. That had been the very beginning of his troubles and miserableness. She had walked very shakily with an euphoric smile on her lips and had clung to him most intimately and rubbed herself against him provocatively. It had taken all of Kakarotto's will power not to tear her dress to shreds and take her in middle of the corridor with passion: fuck her into oblivion.

Somehow (after he reminded himself she was dead drunk) he made to their room and placed her on the bed and decided to take a cold, cold shower to cool down his raging body. Not only had she followed him and stripped in front of him but also drunkenly hugged him. Kakarotto had been so close, so fucking close to paradise when his honor for Piela knocked the skull of his head. And he had carried the naked and squirming slave to their bed where she had then dozed off. Deciding the best course of action was to separate himself from the seductive vixen he had grabbed a pillow and headed for the sofa. The images of her pale nakedness and curvy body ghosted in his mind and his every instinct was screaming to run to bedroom and ravage her currently willing body.

It was maddening; he had never been so hard in his whole life, never felt such lust for Piela as he was feeling for the troublesome kitchen slave and it made him feel guilty. Turning and tossing, tormented by her image he had not slept one damn wink. During his long night he had decided that women were the source of all evil in the world and that Vegeta probably had gotten lucky with the albino scientist despite everything.

Speak of the devil, his scouter bleeped and he reached for it on the living room table. It was Vegeta's calling code. Well, it was almost noon and he had kind of anticipated some sort of contact from his elusive ruler after the party.

" Yes?" he answered curtly, his mood extremely foul.

" Kakarotto..." was all that Vegeta said but the almost pitifully whiny tone spoke volumes and Kakarotto's eyes widened in realization.

" You mated her and thus made her the Queen?! Are you nuts!?" he bellowed into the scouter's transmitter.

A low growl was his short answer and Kakarotto knew to keep his comments to himself or he'd be dead the next time he saw the spiky-haired ruler.

" I apologize, sir..."

" I also bonded to her..."

" YOU WHAT! But that hadn't been allowed for Royal family or upperclass for ages!"

" Kakarotto, comments..."

" I apologize again, sir."

A silence formed between them, neither knowing what to say in this awkward situation with the rebels, the seemingly unavoidable war and the politics this was the last thing they needed.

" High commander, I've done some thinking and now that the deadly assassin trio is on our side I think it's safe for Piela to return to her life as we have so many capable protectors here rather than at the hideout." Came Vegeta's now authoritative voice, the Kakarotto was used to hearing in military and he unconsciously saluted though the prince wasn't there physically.

" I have to say I'm glad for that, your highness," the third class said with light heart.

" We'll have a meeting in an hour--" Kakarotto heard a giggle in the background that sounded suspiciously like Bulma, "-- or make it three, high commander. I have some business to attend to." The line was cut and the high commander was very close crushing the piece of equipment into dust.

" Damn that lucky sonnova bitch..." he mumbled, but then smiled. Piela would be back and this problem could be fixed and he could be rid of ChiChi and finally get to lay some fine piece of female ass that was his mate-to-be... He was happy but somehow inside he felt hollow, like there was something missing already. It was again those contradicting feelings but the Saiyajin male sensed these were his own feelings, not forced by the strange sickness upon him.

Now deep in thought he searched his most inner soul. Could it be he had really fallen in love with the kitchen slave but at the same time still pined for Piela's absence? The women were almost carbon copies of each other except that ChiChi had far more pleasant and distinctive personality which kept him on his toes, challenging him all the time and the body she had... Kakrotto cut the thought there before his mind would start running rampant in the wrong direction. But Piela was regal and elegant and didn't spout vulgarities...

Confused with his inner struggle, Kakarotto failed to notice the figure of ChiChi standing in the door way dressed in his shirt, tears forming in her eyes. She had heard the end of the conversation between him and the Prince: Piela would come back and and she'd thrown back into kitchen and slavery, back to the fear of rape and hunger. So this is the end of us... Kakarotto, my love, I will miss you.

Not that she had even wanted falling love with the Saiyajin high commander of the entire militia, but nonetheless it had happened. Besides, how could he ever love someone of her status; he may have seen her as temporary Piela since they were nearly identical and thus felt attracted to her in the first.

What an emotional mess you've gotten yourself into, ChiChi... she chided herself gently. You can't force love but you can't either repel it when it comes your way. It was sure ChiChi would treasure the short time they had had together, even their arguments and moments of anger. Quietly she tiptoed away, back to their bedroom to dress. She was feeling slightly queasy and her head was pounding, but she ignored them.

The best and worst news had just walked into her life so the pain of being hungover was barely noticeable.

" Kakarotto, you stupid jerk..." She choked out and fell on the bed, sobbing quietly. Only a miracle could save her heart now.


A/N: Sorry for the shortness, but after all this chap is a a short filler: an in-between aftermath. More to come soon. My school's about to end soon and then I have only to work and I can finally fully concentrate on my stories! JA NE!