With the light in our eyes it's hard to see
Holding on and on till we believe
With the light in our eyes it's hard to see
I'm not touched, but I'm aching to be
Dust to dust and dream to dream
I want you to come walk this world with me.

--Heather Nova, "Walk This World"

*****

They had one month. One perfect month of peace. The people in New Hope City got used to seeing Juuhachi-gou in Trunks' and Bulma's company, and eventually the rock-throwing ceased. Some people even started smiling at her, saying hello to her instead of avoiding her. In the basement of Capsule Corporation, the figures in the tubes began to take on familiar silhouettes, and Bulma spent a lot of time looking at one in particular.

Trunks thought he understood why. His mother had never told him much about his father, at least not how she'd felt about him. She'd been willing enough to tell him stories of the past, about her travels with the young Gokou, how Vegeta came to Earth, the great fights he and Gokou'd had, and how Vegeta had finally come to some sort of grudging acceptance of Gokou as a worthy opponent. But never a word about the private times, nothing about how she and the Saiyajin warrior had drawn close enough to want to bring him into the world. It was as if she'd simply packed all those feelings away and shut the door on them forever.

In a way, Trunks supposed, she had. Bulma was a proud, independent woman; if she'd given herself to Vegeta, it'd been without reserve. His loss had taken part of her with him, and to remember that was to lose what little hope she had for their world getting better. So--practical Kaa-san, as always-- she'd put her love aside. He wondered if in the night, when she worked so late in her lab, she ever took those emotions out of their storage place and let them fill her heart again. He thought maybe she did.

Now there was a chance she could let that part of her soul blossom again and with all his heart Trunks hoped she would. After years of being everything for everyone else... maybe Bulma could finally be happy for herself.

Then the next news report came in of a lone figure attacking and razing a human settlement. Hard on its heels came another. And a third.

"I killed him, I know I killed him!" Juuhachi-gou protested, watching the videotape of the destruction. "Trunks watched me do it. I made sure there was nothing left..."

"He must've gotten a hell of a lot better at regenerating, then," Piccolo observed.

"No. He didn't." Bulma set down her calculator. "I've just worked out the timing of the attacks."

"What difference does it make when Juunana-gou destroyed the villages, Kaa-san?" Trunks asked, perching on the edge of the desk.

"Just this, Trunks; in order for Juunana-gou to destroy this town, over here, then pop up over on this part of the country and do the same thing, he'd have to teleport. There is no way he could fly the distance in between and coincide with the times reported."

"So the survivors got it wrong. Kaa-san, they were scared stiff, running for their lives. They can't be blamed for not being sure of what time it really was."

"Good argument. But cameras don't get scared. " Bulma held up a second videotape. "Private surveillance cameras in a jewelry store recorded Juunana-gou's entrance at precisely 16:03, which tallies with the reports that he hit the city of Riverwalk at that time, or very nearly that time. But he was reported only five minutes later in the village of Teakettle, 200 miles to the north. Minutes, Trunks. As far as I know, his flight speed was never fast enough to cover 200 miles in 5 minutes. In order to do that, Juunana-gou would have to be flying at just over Mach 4--nearly 3,000 miles per hour."

"Masaka..." Trunks looked at the map of the stricken towns. A cold suspicion dawned in the pit of his stomach. "But... he could be in two places in that short amount of time... if there were... two of him."

"Or three. I think maybe this third report is of yet another Juunana-gou-duplicate." Bulma pushed back from the desk and sighed.

"Duplicates of Juunana-gou? Bakana! " Trunks snapped. "Who would do such a thing?"

"Juunana-gou would." Everyone turned to face Juuhachi-gou, who was studying the map with a grim face. "My twin had--has a phenomenal ego. Who else would be building androids--true 'artificial beings'--in his image, but Juunana-gou himself?"

Bulma nodded agreement. "We have to face the distinct possibility that Juunana-gou has built himself some serious reinforcements, and in his egotism, made them look just like him."

"Wonderful." Trunks covered his eyes. "How many do you think he has, Kaa-san? "

"I have no idea. I imagine he built one or two, then set them to building others in tandem with him, and then that set took up the task. Exponential increase, you see."

"Meanwhile, if he's smart, Juunana-gou is sitting back supervising the whole thing and letting the robots run the risks." Trunks shook his head. "That means the first one we destroyed-- "

"Was a robot duplicate, and not Juunana-gou at all," Juuhachi-gou finished.

Trunks straightened. "All right, what do we do now?"

"We can't predict where he'll hit next," Juuhachi-gou said. "Or... maybe we can." She joined Bulma and leaned over the map. "Seabreeze... Riverwalk... Teakettle... Greentree." She touched each in turn. "Is there any pattern?"

"Well, they're roughly in a straight line..." Bulma chewed her lip. "That would put the next target as Sunbow, here."

Trunks looked at the map, then shook his head. "No, Kaa-san. The next one is here." He touched a different spot, more to the west. "Here in Duster Town."

"Hm? Why do you say that, Trunks-kun?"

Trunks looked up at her and Juuhachi-gou solemnly. "These are the towns that sprang up on the wreckage of the cities the jinzouningen originally destroyed. Juunana-gou's sending his wind-up doppelgangers to re-trace the track of his last rampage."

"What're we waiting for? Let's go." Piccolo started out the door.

"Piccolo-san! Wait a moment." Bulma held out a hand. "If you do run into the robots at Duster Town, try to bring one back more or less intact. "

"What for?"

"I might be able to reprogram it to lead us back to its headquarters, or trace back its link of command if Juunana-gou is controlling them directly, rather than just programming them and turning them loose."

"Get the head of the serpent, huh? Good idea. Okay. You're on, Bulma. We'll bring you back a little wind-up Juunana-gou dolly."

"Do that." Bulma hefted her Uzi, checking the magazine. "I'll stay here and monitor the incubators--I wouldn't be a whole lot of help anyway." She smiled a little wistfully. "My main strength is in my brain, not in my body."

"Don't knock it." Juuhachi-gou put a hand on her shoulder. "Battles are won by thinking as well as by fighting skill, ne?"

"Hai."

*****

Enma-sama stared down at the small green figure in front of his desk. "You can't be serious, Kami!" he rumbled.

Dende nodded. "Very serious, Enma-sama."

"But it's unheard of! Sending spirits back from Heaven to rejoin the living? There's only one protocol for that; you know very well souls only return to Earth when I send them back to be reborn, and never from Heaven. I can't just let anyone go wandering back to Earth on the off chance it'll find a host body! Never mind the fact that when it's time for a spirit to reach its final reward, there's no returning at all."

"But reincarnation is part of the cycle, as you say." Dende cocked his head. "And how do you know that it isn't their fate to be reborn, Enma-sama? Only Fate is more powerful than any of us who rule the Heavens, even Kaiou-shin."

"That's so. Well, I admit it's possible a greater destiny awaits them." Enma drummed his fingers on the desktop. "Things certainly seem to have fallen into place with surprising ease."

"And there is one more thing. I know you''re very busy sorting out the mess Cell and the artificial humans made, aren't you, Enma-sama?"

Enma sighed gustily. "You're right there! I've never had such a backlog of admittees. It's thrown my whole time table off for centuries. The overcrowding is alarming, the paperwork is monstrous... look at me. I haven't had time for a proper workout since the whole thing started. I'm getting out of shape. Flabby. My fighting edge will be lost!"

"Please forgive me, then, for adding to your problems, but lately I've felt something amiss, both on Earth and in the greater reaches of the universe." Dende lowered his head. "I'm too young to be certain of myself, but it seems to me that Earth is once again being threatened, and we both know what will happen if no one's there to defend it."

"Hm? What's that you say? Earth being threatened? Let me see." Enma closed his eyes and concentrated. "Yes," he murmured after a moment. "I think I see what you mean. Like a shadow across the stars, something moving nearer..." he looked down again. "very good. You're learning your job as Kami with remarkable speed."

Dende bowed deeply. "I value your praise beyond anything else."

Pleased, Enma waved a hand. "Oh, well, praise where it's deserved, and all.... *hem* Well, there are, strictly speaking, no firm rules against what you ask. And, much as I like Gokou, I have to tell you..." he leaned over the desk and in a stentorian whisper added, "having three Saiyajin warriors up here makes for bad napping. First Gokou comes and pesters me until I release Vegeta from Hell, then the three of them hang around out there raising a ruckus sparring, and Vegeta drops by every day to ask me about some woman and boy down on Earth. Every day! So, I suppose, in the interest of keeping things flowing smoothly up here, I can authorize a special dispensation. I'll even let them keep any skills they've learned since being here, though of course their memories of Heaven will shortly fade, just as they do in any reincarnated soul. How's that for generous, hm?"

"Enma-sama!" Dende bowed again, even more deeply. "I can't believe how large your heart is. This is a wonderful thing you're doing. Please, if there's anything I can ever do in return, no matter how small--"

"No, no, I'm grateful to you for bringing these matters to my attention. Saved me more trouble than I want to imagine." Enma drew up a quill and wrote for a few minutes on a scroll, then handed it to Dende. "Here is my special permission for you to return the three Saiyajin's spirits to life. I leave the entire matter in your hands, but I trust you'll let me know how it goes."

"I'll bring a complete report in writing and summarize for you verbally as soon as it's completed," Dende said, accepting the scroll.

The King of the Dead beamed. "Now there's a well-mannered and smart young fellow," he remarked to his attendants. "Why haven't I got anyone that smart working for me? Hm? He'll go far, mark my words. --Come again soon, young Kami! Your company is the best I've had in millennia!"

As soon as he was away from Enma's palace, the pleasant look dropped off Dende's face, to be replaced by intense concentration. / Piccolo.../

A few seconds, then: | Yes, what? |

/ Where are you? /

| Chasing some of those irritating robots of Juunana-gou's, what else ? Did you bother me just for that? |

/ ALL of you? /

| What? Well, yeah, except for Bulma, she stayed back at-- |

/ Piccolo-san, if you were fighting a war, and you knew your enemy had a stronghold, how would you take it? By force, or by stealth? /

| What kind of stupid question is-- DAMN! This whole thing's a SETUP! A damn DECOY! I can't BELIEVE I didn't see that! |

/ Hurry, then! Or everything's lost. /

| Yeah I hear you loud and clear. | Piccolo pulled up in mid-flight. "Hey, hot-shot, tin girl, change of plans," he said.

"What?" Trunks looped and headed back, pointing at the group of robots they'd found trashing Duster Town less than half an hour ago. "We've got them on the run!"

"Wrong, kid. They've got us right where they want us--chasing them all over the countryside while your mom's at home alone."

"Bulma!" Juuhachi-gou gasped, then slapped her head. "Bakana! It's--"

"A sucker play, you got it. And guess which three people I know have big white sticks glued to their backsides right about now. I'm looking at two of 'em, and you two are looking at the third. Come on. Let's hope we can beat the main forces there. Too bad Gokou never got around to showing me how that teleport of his worked."

The trio sped back towards Hope City, each silent, each wrapped in his or her own thoughts. Piccolo was silently cursing himself for missing such an obvious trick; Trunks was praying, quietly, that they hadn't been delayed too long. Juuhachi-gou...well, her thoughts were her own, but by the look in her eyes, someone would pay if they found they were in fact too late.

As the familiar curve of Capsule Corporation came into view, the morning sun silhouetted a horde of dots on the horizon ahead of them, growing larger second by second as they too raced towards Hope City. Piccolo spat out a curse in Namekseijin, then said, "Okay. Tin girl, you're down with Bulma. Keep her and the lab safe. Trunks, you're with me. We have to buy time for the Saiyajin to wake up." He pulled to a stop in the sky and closed his eyes. | Dende. |

/ Hai, Piccolo-san. /

| You were right. We're under attack. Better round up Gokou and the others. We're going to need reinforcements. |

Trunks drew his sword and turned around. "Juuhachi-gou-- "

Juuhachi-gou took his face in both her hands and kissed him full on the mouth. Trunks was so startled he almost dropped his sword. A blush streaked across his cheeks as Piccolo scowled and grumbled, "We don't have time for this..."

Juuhachi-gou ignored him. She drew back, still cradling Trunks' face in her hands, and smiled. "You two worry about the robots. Leave Bulma to me. I promise you, nothing will touch her as long as I'm standing." With that she let him go and dove downwards, pausing only to open the front door before darting inside.

"Okay, kid. Here's where we find out how good a teacher Gohan was." Piccolo shrugged out of his cape and turban. "I'll hit 'em high, you hit 'em low. Don't bother being a nice guy. We've got to take them out as fast as possible. Got it?"

Trunks shook himself out of a half-daze and nodded. "Hai, Piccolo-san." He concentrated and the crackling aura flared around him as his hair lifted and turned to shimmering gold. With a firm grasp on his sword, he flew off with the Namekseijin to engage the enemy.

*****

Bulma looked surprised as Juuhachi-gou entered the lab. "Juu-chan? Back already?"

In cool, terse tones, Juuhachi-gou explained the situation. "Juunana-gou was trying to lure us away. He's sending his android duplicates to attack the lab."

Bulma swallowed hard. "How--how many?"

"Too many. Piccolo and Trunks think they can fight them off; we'll find out soon enough. We'll be under attack any--" She lifted her head and listened. Sounds bad out there, she mused. "It's begun. How much longer?"

"I don't know." Bulma rubbed her hands over her face. "The incubation process is over. Now all we're waiting for is for their spirits to re-enter their bodies. That's Dende's business; I've done all I can." She fell silent, looking down at her hands, clasped lightly in her lap. She raised them, studying each in turn. They were still slender and graceful, but she could tell they were the hands of a woman, not a girl. "So many years..." she murmured.

"Nani?"

"Oh--" Bulma shrugged, started to brush it off, but saw the look in Juu's eyes. "When did you get to know me so well?" she asked, instead, with a wry smile.

"When I started living with you and Trunks." Juuhachi-gou tipped her head to one side. "What did you mean, about those years?"

"Vegeta... was always so proud of the fact that 'his woman' was one of the prettiest around. Not that he ever said as much. Vegeta was never someone you looked to for complements. Matter of fact, he used to torment me by saying how ugly and loud-mouthed and stupid I was. God! I hated him for that. It never failed to drive me crazy... until I figured out two things."

"And those were?"

"One, he loved getting me into a temper. It meant he was reaching me, the real me. Two, after a while, he really didn't mean 'ugly' or 'stupid' at all. Words that sounded as if they should hurt me were really a way of telling me he cared."

"Hm." Juuhachi-gou snorted. "Sounds like a stupidly complicated thing to do. Why bother saying 'stupid' if you really mean 'smart'?"

Bulma smiled wistfully. "It--it was a kind of joke, you see, and a kind of private language. Something only the two of us shared the full implications of. And it was the only way he could express himself in words. Saiyajin raised the way Vegeta was raised couldn't admit any weakness, I think, without it becoming fatal. Any emotional warmth would be seen as just that." Reaching up, Bulma touched her own face. "But it's been so long... I'm older, much older than he will be when he comes back. I can't help wondering and worrying, what will he think? Will he still want me?"

"Why shouldn't he? You're his wife."

"Mm, not really. We're not married, never have been. But just let any other man try to come after me and he made it plain whose 'mate' he considered me to be. I suppose by now, living with him, I can be considered his common-law wife." Bulma shook her head. "There's still a lot I don't know about Saiyajin customs and traditions and feelings, so much I don't think I ever will know. It didn't seem all that important before, but now I can't get it off my mind."

Juuhachi-gou opened her mouth to answer, but never finished as a sudden impact set the lab glassware jangling faintly and shook the floor beneath them. "That was a close one. Maybe we should--" abruptly she broke off, a momentary look of surprise spreading over her features before they smoothed into a placid mask and she collapsed to the floor like a discarded doll.

"Juuhachi-gou!!" Bulma gasped, moving to kneel beside the Jinzoningen's still form. "Juu-chan, what's wrong?"

No response. Hastily Bulma checked for pulse and respiration, found neither. Jumping up, she grabbed a stethoscope and applied it to Juu's chest. Faintly through the earpieces she caught a slow, feeble heartbeat. A check of her pupils showed no reaction to light, and Bulma sat back on her heels, puzzled. It was almost as if Juuhachi-gou had dropped into a sudden deep coma. "What in the world..?"

An answer of sorts came with a screech of rending metal as a fist plowed its way up through the lab floor on Juu's other side. With a shriek Bulma threw herself backwards as another fist joined the first and together they tore the plating apart, widening the hole enough for a slender dark-haired form to pull itself through.

With a smirk Juunana-gou stood up and brushed off a few stray bits of earth and tile. Seeming not to notice Bulma's presence, he crouched beside Juuhachi-gou's inert body. "Hi, sis," he said cheerfully, leaning forward to grin down into her blank-eyed face. "Don't bother trying to answer. Your main motor functions have been switched off." He held up a flat black box with several switches and dials on it. "Gero's remote deactivator--remember? Of course, I had to fix it so it wouldn't affect me, but it still works pretty well on you, looks like."

After a moment of brain-numbing dread at seeing the other artificial human, Bulma steeled herself and started inching slowly back towards her lab table. If she could just reach the Uzi she kept in the bottom drawer for emergencies...

"I was a little upset when I found out you were helping the Saiyajin boy and his mommy dear," Juunana-gou continued. "But I figured with a little help from my friends--the robots I built, that is--and the deactivator, you and I could have a nice long reprogramming session and I could bring you back to your old self. Then we could finish off the humans. Though I guess we really should keep a few around to play with. Otherwise it could get boring."

A tear slid out of Juuhachi-gou's eye and trickled down the side of her expressionless face.

Bulma's hand closed around the drawer handle. Slowly she eased it open, never taking her eyes off Juunana-gou. That's right, just keep talking to Juu-chan, never mind little me, I'm no threat... yet.

"Hm? What's that you say?" Juunana-gou bent his head to listen to words Juuhachi-gou was incapable of producing. "Hey, what a great idea! I bet she'd be a lot of fun." He looked up right at Bulma and grinned. "Wouldn't you?"

Abandoning all stealth, Bulma yanked open the drawer and grabbed the gun, bringing it to bear as fast as she could on the jinzouningen. But it wasn't fast enough. Even as her finger started to tighten on the trigger Juunana-gou's hand was closing on the barrel and wrenching it to one side, yanking the Uzi out of Bulma's grip and tossing it to the far side of the lab. In the next second she was hauled off her feet.

"Naughty girl," Juunana-gou said, holding Bulma up by her shirt front and giving her a sharp shake. "That's no way to say 'hello' to a blind date. But it's okay. You can make it up to me later."

Gritting her teeth, Bulma braced herself on the young man's arm and kicked at him. She might as well have been kicking a chair for all the reaction she got. He actually looked pleased as she struggled. "All right!" he exclaimed. "And I was afraid you were going to give up or cower in a corner or something. Guess I really shouldn't have thought that of you. I mean, you were that tough little guy's wife, right? What was his name, Velveeta or something?"

"Vegeta," Bulma hissed at him.

"That's it. Vegeta." Juunana-gou tipped his head to one side and looked pleasantly wistful. "Ah, that was a great fight. Too bad he died. But then, we kind of killed him, didn't we? Do you know what the last thing he said was right before he snuffed it? He was lying there with a hole blown in him and looking up at us, Juuhachi-gou and me, but I don't think we was really seeing us. He had a funny look on his face, too. I think you humans call it 'sadness' or something. Then he whispered a name... something starting with a 'B'...What did he say, sis? " he asked the inert figure on the floor. Again he pretended to listen. "Oh, yeah, that was it. He said, 'Bulma '." He looked back at the woman struggling in his grip. "Then he shuddered and coughed up a little blood and pow, that was it for him." The artificial human smiled. "Now, isn't that touching? His last thoughts were of you."

"Chikusho!!"

"Shouldn't yell at me, little lady. You want to be on my good side. You might last a little longer if you are." With a casual move of his arm Juunana-gou sent her flying across the room to crash into a table full of chemicals. Bulma tried to catch herself and felt her arm snap as she landed on it, cutting herself in several places as well as labware shattered beneath her. The pain made the whole world gray out for a few seconds.

When her vision cleared, she saw Juunana-gou walking towards her. As he passed the door to the incubation room, he glanced in, stopped. ""What's this?" He poked his head in. "Whoa, do-it-yourself people. So you're the one who raided Gero's lab. I thought I heard someone wandering around. Too bad I wasn't completely finished regenerating, or I would've come out to say hello. I was hiding out there, planning to reuse the equipment... you slowed me down a lot by taking his notebooks. A little something else I have to thank you for." Drawing back, he turned, walking closer to Bulma as energy began to flicker around one of his hands.

"No--" Bulma moaned, trying to move, groping around desperately for something, anything, to use to shield herself. "Please--"

"Say bye bye," Juunana-gou laughed, watching the expression on Bulma's face as he sent a ki blast winging behind him, into the growth tubes and equipment. The explosion shook the entire building. Caught mid-step, Juunana-gou stumbled a bit.

At the same moment Bulma's good hand closed on a beaker that had survived her arrival. She didn't even stop to look at it, just threw it at the jinzouningen's face. The young man jerked himself aside, but not quite enough; the glass hit and shattered and he screamed as vapors arose from one side of his face. "Acid!" He yelled. "You slut, you threw acid on me!!" Blindly he staggered towards the sink beside the table, shoved his head under the faucet and turned on the water full blast.

Taking advantage of his distraction, Bulma staggered to her feet and fled, cradling her broken arm and trying not to scream as the movement jostled it. Reason told her to run; Juuhachi-gou was far too heavy to lift by herself, even if she'd been unhurt. All she could do was try to get outside and get Trunks' or Piccolo's attention. So she ran. Ran for her life, ran for Juu-chan's, though she could hardly see where she was going through tears of pain and heartbreak and despair. Gone, all gone, it's all over, I don't have any cell cultures left, that was my one chance... oh, Gohan, Son-kun, Vegeta-!

The corridors of Capsule Corporation turned into a nightmare maze as Bulma stumbled through them, leaving a little trail of blood behind her from her cuts. In the distance she could hear Juunana-gou screaming her name in pure rage as he came after her. Every door she came to she slammed shut behind her, hoping it would delay him an extra second or two. At last she rounded a corner and glimpsed the huge double doors to the outside ahead. Gasping, she staggered towards them.

Ahead of her, barring her path, a form smashed through the ceiling and dropped in, the left side of his face red and raw. Bulma skidded to a stop, her last strength draining out of her as the adrenaline faded, and fell to her knees. "Iie..."

"Oh, Bulma, Bulma, Bulma," Juunana-gou said. "That wasn't friendly. I'm going to have to kill you very painfully now." One hand lifted, gathering energy.

With a shiver Bulma closed her eyes. "Trunks..." she whispered. As the light of the energy blast filled the corridor, a sudden wind stirred her hair, bringing with it a cool, clean scent, like a spring morning, and a tingle of energy. Hard on its heels she heard Juunana-gou exclaim, "What the hell!"

Startled, Bulma opened her eyes, not understanding why she wasn't dead until she looked up. Between her and Juunana-gou, shielding her, three figures stood, two taller ones flanking a shorter in the middle. All three were clad in the stark black-and-white of Saiyajin armor, but the two bigger ones bore an emblem on their backs, a bold black kanji drawn on a white circle representing a familiar word: KAME.

As she tried to make sense of it all the more muscular of the figures, the one closest to her, turned and glanced back over his shoulder, face full of affection and playfulness, and gave her a gentle, familiar smile.

"Oi, Bulma," Gokou said softly. "You look pretty bad. You sit there and rest, ne? We take care of things from now on."

Bulma caught her breath in a sob of wonder. "So--Son-kun...!"

Tipping her a wink, Gokou turned back to face the front, the good-natured look dropping off his features and a grimly amused half-smirk replacing it. "I don't think he's happy to see us," he said quietly.

"Iie, I'm sure he's not, otou-san." Gohan answered from the other side, folding his arms. "I'm not happy to see him either."

"Kakarotto." Vegeta half crouched. "You and Gohan go see if there's any other garbage outside. This piece of trash is MIIIIINE!" With that shout the Saiyajin prince launched himself forward and slammed into Juunana-gou, smashing through the doors and out into the open. Something small and black clattered to the floor, knocked out of Juunana-gou's grip by the sudden impact.

"Eeeh, knows how to open doors, doesn't he?" Gohan said, giving a nervous little half-laugh.

Gokou nodded. "Always has. Come on, Gohan-kun."

As the other two flew out the door, Bulma hitched herself forward to see what it was Juunana-gou had been holding. The pain threatened to claim her failing senses, but finally her hand closed on the object and she brought it close enough to her face to see it in the dusty gloom. For several minutes she puzzled over it, fighting to concentrate through waves of dizziness, before recognizing it as the remote controller Juunana-gou'd boasted about earlier. Obviously Juunana-gou had somehow shielded himself, but it worked fine on Juu-chan..

Juuhachi-gou.

With all her remaining energy Bulma raised the box and brought it down on the floor. It took three tries, but on the third the box broke open, sparks beginning to emit from it as it shorted out. Bulma tossed it away, then collapsed back against the near wall, exhausted, slipping into semi-consciousness.

Outside, Piccolo and Trunks were the center of a knot of robot duplicates of Juunana-gou. Shattered wreckage of some twenty or thirty more lay strewn on the ground around them. Back to back, they were barely managing to keep their opponents at bay; the sheer numbers were slowly overwhelming them.

"Damn tin cans don't get tired," Piccolo snarled, smashing an elbow into one robot's face, "and they're using wolf pack tactics too. You got any bright ideas, hot shot?"

"Not right now," panted Trunks, swiping a trickle of blood and sweat out of his eyes. "Much more of this, though, and I'm... going to drop out of Super-Saiyajin..."

"Yeah, I was afraid you were going to say that." Pivoting, Piccolo kicked a second robot, sending it flying into the side of Capsule Corporation. It hit, bounced, took a few staggering steps forward, and collapsed, even as another took its place. "Damn. Don't these things know when to lie down and quit?"

"I guess 'give up' isn't in their programming."

"It's not in my 'programming' either. --HOUFF!" Piccolo doubled over as a third mecha got in past his defenses and gut-punched him.

"Piccolo-san!" Turning, Trunks slashed at Piccolo's attacker, slicing down through its shoulder and half into the torso, where his sword lodged as it fell motionless. As he pulled on the hilt, trying to get it free, an arm circled his neck, cutting off his air, and dragged him backwards, where more robots were waiting their turn to hit him.

Gritting his teeth, Trunks flew up and flipped upside down in midair, hoping the robot's grip would loosen or shift enough for him to fight his way free. For just a second it did, and in that moment's respite, Trunks got a hand in between his throat and the machine's arm, powered his way out of the hold, then threw a rapid series of punches at his opponent's head and wound up with a savage kick to the midsection that sent the mecha into the ground hard enough to dig a crater as deep as it was tall.

There was no time for feeling gratified, though; five more of the things were headed upward at him. He dropped back to the earth to save strength and half-crouched, gasping. His ki was draining rapidly, he could feel it. If the other warriors were going to wake, they should've done so by now... something has to be wrong. What if--what if another group of these things got inside, to the lab?! We've got to pull back-!

At that moment something streaked through the sky from the direction of the Corporation, plowing through the group of robots heading at him, and shot past, the wind in its wake whipping up dust and tossing his hair away from his face. Trunks blinked after it, trying to make out some detail in the rapidly moving cluster. There were two bodies there, and faintly he could hear the sound of blows being exchanged as they receded, feel the surge of ki. He was almost certain one of those fighters was Juunana-gou--the real Juunana-gou, this time (and what was he doing in Capsule Corporation? a horrid cold voice whispered in the back of his mind).

And the other... something in it called to him, made his heart rise in a sudden wild hope. I know you, oh Kami-sama I KNOW YOU--

"Kaaa-meeeee--"

Startled, Trunks whipped back around, cursing himself for what should've been a fatal distraction. Between him and the oncoming mecha, now regrouped, stood a figure in what he recognized as Saiyajin armor. The man had his hands cupped to his right side, and in those palms energy glowed and grew, blinding to look at.

"--haaa-meeeee--"

The robots paused, searching their data banks for some identification of the new combatant. Finally, in a deep subroutine, added as an afterthought, they found a pattern matching the organic being before them. It was flagged with a two-word instruction: RUN AWAY.

"HAAAAA!" The man snapped his hands forward, the ki blast leaping almost of its own accord from him and blazing through the cybernetic fighters, reducing them to so much scrap metal dust. As the ones on the outskirts of the blast retreated, the man twisted, dipping his fists. The blast followed the arc of his body, curving gracefully over to follow and tear through each and every one of the mecha until the skies were clear. Only then did he turn and smile at Trunks. "Oi, konban wa," he said. "Trunks, hai? Gohan told me about you. I'm--"

"Son Gokou," Trunks finished, his voice almost worshipful. After all, it wasn't every day the greatest warrior of one's time comes back from the dead to personally help you out.

Across the battlefield, Gohan swooped in, catching a flash of a familiar green form in the mob of Juunana-gou-lookalikes below him, and dove headfirst into their midst, exploding in a flurry of fists and feet. Teeth gritted in a cross between a smile and a snarl, he shrugged off every strike, ignoring the pain, until he could reach down and grasp a hand that rose by instinct to find his. Leaning back on his heels, he lifted Piccolo to his feet. For just a moment their eyes met.

"About time you got here, kid," the Namekseijin growled. "What kept you? Stop for a meal on the way?"

Gohan's eyes crinkled. "Pic-colo-san," he sing-songed.

"Don't say it. Don't even think about--"

"Dai-dai-daisukiiiii!"

"ARGH! Now I gotta beat your butt, kid. Right after we trash these damn metal mannequins."

"Yosh, Piccolo-san." Gohan turned to face one way, felt his old mentor place his back against Gohan's to guard it. "Let's do it."

As the remaining robots closed in, so soft no other ears could've heard it, Piccolo said, "Okay... yeah, I missed you too. Satisfied?"

There was no such happiness half a mile away. Vegeta and Juunana-gou were trading punches, the former snarling in rage,the latter smirking as he fielded each strike. "Give it up, old man," the jinzouningen taunted as they parted briefly. "Juuhachi-gou and I beat you before. What makes you think the rematch will be any more to your favor, huh?"

"Kono yogore!!!" Vegeta straightened, eyes savagely pleased, and screamed in defiance as golden fire exploded outward around him, tendrils of lightning shooting through it, finally flushing all the color out of his hair as he burnt a brilliant white-gold with power.

Juunana-gou's eyes widened at the exponential increase in power. "Ma-masaka," he gasped. "What--"

"Yatta. Super-Saiyajin, bakayarou," Vegeta said, and darted in with speed that defeated even the artificial human's senses. One fist curled back and rocketed out, snapping Juunana-gou's head halfway around. "This is for my son, who grew up without a father to train him and teach him the heritage of his blood." Another blow, snapping the young cyborg's head the other way. "This is for my woman--you remember her, the one you were probably planning to rape, then torture to death." Drawing back, Vegeta concentrated, power filling his hands with tendrils of light. "And this... this is for me." Thrusting his cupped hands foward till they almost touched Juunana-gou's chest, he smiled with a cold satisfaction. "FINAL FLASH."

The sky lit, bright enough to cast a second shadow over the battlefield. Instinctively all the fighters looked up. "Vegeta," Gokou observed, shading his eyes. "Nice control."

"Su..sugoi," Trunks said voice shaking. So powerful--more so than the other time's Vegeta... is this my father? Will he even recognize me, or care? He turned away, one hand clenching. I've tried to do him proud--do Gohan-san proud--will it matter to him?

Back at Capsule Corporation, Bulma felt a hand on her shoulder, clenching down with a fair amount of force. The pain stirred her from her half-faint, made her moan in protest.

"Shhh..." a soft female voice. "I know it hurts, Bulma, but not as bad as that arm has to."

"Juu...Juu-chan..?"

"Hai, sou na." The hand lifted and gripped above her elbow. "Hold on now. That nerve block won't last without pressure, but it should be numbed enough to keep this from being too bad." A *crunch* echoed by a twinge of new pain shook Bulma. This time she managed not to cry out. "The controller..." she whispered as Juuhachi-gou began to splint the injured arm.

"You did quite a good job of breaking it. Speaking of 'break', sorry about this. I heard everything that was going on, but there wasn't anything I could do."

"Never expected you to--" Bulma coughed, feeling the air catch in her throat. Juuhachi-gou glanced up, then around. The air was filling with a haze of dust and smoke; she hadn't paid any attention, too intent on getting up and stopping her twin when she'd found herself able to move again, but it looked like the lab had well and truly caught fire. And if that's so, there may be more explosions. Certainly some bad fumes. The lab's sealed off now, so it shouldn't spread beyond there before the automatics extinguish it, but I have to finish this up fast and get Bulma out into the fresh air. She studied the human woman's face as she worked quickly. Pale, skin a bit clammy, sweating. Looks like shock. Little wonder. Hope Trunks is all right. I'll need his help in tending to her. She paused a bare moment to listen. Damn, it's gone quiet outside. I wonder if that's a good sign or a bad sign. "There, " she announced, tucking the arm into the makeshift sling she'd rigged and lifting Bulma as gently as she could. "Hold on." She walked out the front doors and down the steps, stopping at the bottom to set Bulma down and make her as comfortable as possible, knelt beside her. "You rest," she said quietly, and stood up, hands on hips to look around. Nearby she could see Trunks and Piccolo, and two other men. She blinked, then shrugged. Well, well, so the Saiyajin survived. How...? Never mind. First things first.. She lifted a hand and called out, "Oi, Trunks. Get over here. Your mother's hurt."

Hearing the familiar voice, Trunks glanced over. "Kaa-san?" he said, heart taking a sudden skip. Juunana-gou! THAT'S what he was doing--! "How? Did Juunana-gou get to her? I thought you were going to protect her!"

"Juunana-gou had Gero's baka controller. He switched me off!"

Gohan looked over and turned white. "Ji--Juuhachi-gou," he gasped, dropping into a crouch and starting to summon his ki..

"Who?" Gokou said, scratching his head. "Hey, she's pretty. Your girl, Trunks?"

"No--well, not exactly, Gokou-san, but--I mean, she--" Blushing a little, Trunks broke off as he felt Vegeta's presence growing very near, very fast. "Kuso. We've got to let him know--"

A blue and white streak shot past and barreled in towards Capsule Corp, only speeding up as Juuhachi-gou and Bulma came into sight. Juuhachi-gou had enough time to look around, recognize the incoming form, and groan softly, "Not again," in the second before Vegeta rammed into her and knocked both her and himself through the remains of the dome.

"We've got to stop him!" Trunks leapt that way, fatigue momentarily forgotten as he ran. "He'll kill her!"

"Nani? You make it sound like that's a bad thing," Gohan said, matching pace with the younger man.

"Take it from me, kid, this is one case where it's bad," Piccolo said, coming up on Gohan's other side. "We don't want the tin girl taken apart, got it?"

"Hai, Piccolo-san." Gohan nodded, accepting without question. "Wakatta."

Trunks skidded to a stop beside Bulma, dropping to one knee as the others lifted off and shot past him, trying to catch up to Vegeta. "Kaa-san?" he said anxiously, seeing her pale face.

Crystal-blue eyes fluttered open and focused on him slowly. "Trunks..." With a little hiss of pain, Bulma pulled herself together and looked around. "Where's--"

From high above a ringing cry answered her question: "Jinzouningen, SHIIIII-NNNNEEE!"

"Oh, kuso," Bulma muttered, squinting skyward. "Vegeta's after Juu-chan."

"Ha-hai, Kaa-san."

"Bakamono. He always did have the worst temper... you go on; I'll be fine."

"You're sure?"

Bulma gave her son a long look. "I've waited twenty years to see that baka again; I'm not about to die and let him get off easy. Go on, shoo shoo shoo." She waved a hand.

With a nod Trunks flew up, pushing his exhaustion aside. He could see the other senshi jockeying for position, Gokou trying to get an armlock on Vegeta while Gohan and Piccolo ran interference. The furious Vegeta was twisting and dodging and weaving through them, snarling like a madman, obviously seeing nothing but Juuhachi-gou. As he drew near, Vegeta whipped around and slammed a booted foot into Gokou's chest, sending him plummeting; used his momentum to plant an elbow into Gohan's stomach; and flung up one hand to ki-blast Piccolo, all in the space of a heartbeat. Not enough to seriously hurt any of them, but it did clear his path to his target. Both hands came up, light searing around them as Vegeta gathered strength for a killing strike.

With the last of his strength Trunks put on a burst of speed and shot inbetween the Saiyajin prince and Juuhachi-gou, dropping out of Super-Saiyajin and holding out both hands. "Otou-san! Papa! DAME DAAAA!"

Dark eyes fixed on him, and for one blink of time Trunks saw nothing but battle rage in them, no recognition or awareness of him as anything but another enemy. Then Vegeta caught his breath, eyes widening as he took in the stranger before him, and the energy gathering in his palms vanished. "'O--tou-san'...?" he repeated, the snarl being replaced by a scowl that was half-irritated and half-puzzled. Slowly, slowly he lowered his hands, drifted nearer to peer into Trunks' face. The scowl, too, began to fade, replaced by a look that was almost one of wonderment. "...Trunks?"

Trunks swallowed, tried to keep his features schooled to calm and show nothing of the sudden urge he'd had to fling his arms around this fierce stranger. Father or not, he knew better than to try it. Vegeta would never accept open affection from any son of his--that wasn't a warrior's way. Instead he nodded once. "Hai, Papa. Trunks."

"Hm." Vegeta folded his arms, smirked, and looked his son up and down, then glanced over at Gohan. "Maybe you didn't do as pitiful a job as I thought you would've at training him. But I'll have to test him myself to be sure of that." He swung his gaze back to Trunks. "Now stand aside, boy. I have unfinished business."

"Iie, Papa. It's finished. You mustn't hurt Juuhachi-gou."

"Nanda yo?!" Vegeta's anger blazed up again. "Who are you talking to?!"

"Ah, Vegeta, maybe you should--" Gokou started, only to be rounded on by the Saiyajin prince.

"Shizuka na!!" Vegeta roared. "Kakarotto, when I want your opinion, I'll BEAT IT OUT OF YOU!"

"But, Vegeta--" Gokou tried again, then ducked at Vegeta sent a blast whizzing at him. "Oi! Watch that!"

"Cut it out and simmer down, Vegeta," Piccolo growled, "before I pull your hair out and make you eat it."

"Try it, green man," Vegeta smirked.

"Let's go for it."

"Oi, oi, this isn't getting us anywhere!" Gohan waved his hands. "Trunks, why shouldn't we kill Juuhachi-gou?"

"Because she's not the enemy," Trunks said.

"Since when?!"

"Since she escaped from Gero's programming and regained her own personality. She's been living with Kaa-san and me for almost four months now. After I killed her--"

"Nani?" Gohan blinked. "You killed...?"

"I killed them both. But... they regenerated themselves. Like Perfect Cell."

"Perfect Cell? Who's that?"

Trunks shook his head. "Long story, Gohan-san. I promise I'll tell it all. But for right now the important thing is--"

"Not to kill Trunks' girl," Gokou finished.

Silence.

"Trunks'.... girl," Vegeta said softly.

Trunks gave Gokou a long-suffering look.

A soft voice broke in at that point. "Do I get to say something here? This is my life we're talking about." Juuhachi-gou drifted closer, swiped her hair out of her face, and looked steadily at Vegeta. "I don't expect forgiveness from you. I did a lot of terrible things because Gero made me hate everything and everyone. That's finished now." She looked from Vegeta to Gohan. "I'm...sorry I killed you. I'm sorry for everything I did before. I know that sounds hopelessly inadequate, but there's nothing I can do to change the past. Right now, I just want to live my life and let everyone else live theirs." Then she glanced at Trunks, one pale eyebrow raising. "And since when am I 'your girl'?"

"Aa...ano...."

"Zakennayo!" Vegeta spat. "Masaka! Any son of mine would sooner kill a thing like you than--"

"Papa, SHUT UP!" Trunks bellowed, temper snapping. Before he knew it one fist had snagged the front of Vegeta's body suit, just below the open collar, and pulled him in so close they were practically nose to nose. "I am your son, and I did want to kill her--at first. But she really is a different person. I grew up hating her. I watched her destroy this planet. If I can accept that she's different now, then so can you." He let go of his father, drew back a bit, swiped the back of his hand at the tears he now found slipping down his cheeks. "I want you to approve of me, but I can't stand by and let you kill Juuha--no. Juu-chan."

"'Juu-chan'," Vegeta mocked, sneering. "Do you mean to tell me you have feelings for this..." He waved a hand at Juuhachi-gou. "This thing?"

"She's not a thing . She's a woman. A beautiful, brave, sensitive woman. And I'm not really sure how I feel about her..." He looked at Juuhachi-gou, who returned his gaze with dawning wonder. "But I'd like to find out." Defiantly Trunks took Juuhachi-gou's hand, then locked eyes with his father, not flinching under Vegeta's dark, relentless glare. "And...I intend to."

After a few seconds a slow half-smile spread across Vegeta's features. "That settles that," he said. "As stupid and as stubborn and sentimental as your mother, as hot-tempered and foolhardy and disrespectful as me. You're my whelp all right." The smile vanished as he shot a look at Juuhachi-gou. "This isn't over, jinzouningen. I'll be watching you. One mistake, and you're scrap."

"Hai hai, wakatta na. One wrong move and I'm dead, do not pass 'Go', do not collect two hundred zenni, yadda yadda." Juuhachi-gou sighed and rolled her eyes. "I ought to just start passing out business cards that say 'Greetings, I come in peace, please don't kill me, I'm a good little jinzouningen now'..."

Trunks muttered, "I'll have Kaa-san call the print shop tomorrow--aa! Kaa-san! I almost forgot-!" He let himself drop, the other warriors right behind him.

"She should be stable," Juuhachi-gou said as they landed. "And since the smoke has stopped drifting out the door, it looks like the extinguisher system has dealt with the fire. But the lab's a complete loss."

"We'll rebuild. We've done it before." Trunks leaned over, checking Bulma. "I think she's asleep."

Without a word Vegeta moved Trunks out of the way and scooped Bulma up, so gently she never even stirred. "Tend to other things, boy," he said over one shoulder. "I'll see to it she's taken care of." Rising, he flew into Capsule Corporation.

"Takes care of him for a while." Piccolo folded his arms, glanced over at Gohan. "We got a lot of catching up to do, kid."

"Hai, Piccolo-san." Gohan scratched his head. "I, I know we were together in Heaven, but somehow I can't remember too much of that right now..."

"Reincarnation does that to you. I'm surprised you remember that much--eh?" Piccolo's hand shot out and tugged at the brown belt around Gohan's waist. "What the hell is this?!"

As Trunks watched, the belt suddenly unwrapped itself and the end curled around Piccolo's wrist. "My tail," Gohan said happily.

The look of surprise and consternation on Piccolo's face was almost too comical to withstand. "Tuh-tail," he gasped finally, then got hold of himself. "Oh yeah. I guess this thing grew back with the rest of you, huh? Knew I should've mentioned that to Bulma." Still holding the furry length, Piccolo lifted two fingers, preparing to strike. "Hold still a second."

A hand shot out and stopped him.

"Iie," Gokou said simply. "Leave Gohan's tail where it is."

"Are you nuts, Gokou?" Piccolo shot back. "After all the trouble these things caused?"

"Na, I'm not nuts." Gokou unfurled his own tail, gestured at it. "I'm keeping mine this time too. The moon's not here anymore, so it's not a problem." He smiled over at Trunks. "Maybe we get you to grow yours back too, ne?"

"Otou-san!" Gohan now looked almost as bewildered as Piccolo had earlier. "Naze? Why?"

"I did some thinking while we were up in Heaven--" Gokou scratched his head. "Well, I think I did some thinking."

"That's a first," muttered Piccolo.

"Anyway..." Gokou shrugged. "Never had my tail as a grown-up. Never had anyone to teach me how to control it. But Vegeta knows. It made him hard to beat, that first time, you remember Gohan?"

"Hai, otou-san."

"Kame-sennin once told me that the difference between a wise man and a fool is that the wise man knows he doesn't know everything, and admits it. The fool won't admit he doesn't know everything, not even to himself, so he never learns any better. I think maybe since we have a second chance, we should learn about what our tails can do for us that's good instead of bad. If we don't like them, we can take them off after that and not lose anything, see?"

"Damn, Gokou," Piccolo snorted, "since when did spending time dead make your brain start working?"

Gokou put a hand behind his head and grinned merrily, flashed a "V" sign with the other. "Sankyuu, Piccolo-san! Now you admit I have a brain after all! In front of people too!"

"D'OH!" Piccolo clapped a hand over his eyes and groaned as the other warriors laughed.

When the laughter quieted, Juuhachi-gou swiped a stray lock of hair back into place and said, "One question. Juunana-gou blew the incubation room to shards. How did you three survive?"

"And how did you come back with your clothes? " Piccolo added. "I woke up naked; why didn't you three?"

/ Gomen...that was MY doing, Piccolo-san. /

Everyone jumped as the gentle voice sounded in their heads. "What the hell was that?" Juuhachi-gou gasped, looking around.

"The voice of God," Piccolo muttered.

"Dende-san!" Gohan grinned.

"That's what I said."

/ I'm afraid I made a terrible mistake--I'm still very inexperienced at being a deity, you know. / Dende's gentle voice held the faintest hint of amusement. / You see, instead of sending the souls of Gokou-san, Gohan-san and Vegeta-san to join with their bodies, I mistakenly brought their bodies to my realm to join with their souls. It was an unforgivable oversight on my part. Quite clumsy of me, really. /

Piccolo grinned fiercely. "Yeah, right. Accident my left horn. You knew Juunana-gou was about to destroy the lab and you snatched their bodies up to save them. Don't teach your grandfather to chew cheese, squirt. Of course, that still doesn't explain the clothes."

/ Well, of course, since they were all standing around naked, it wouldn't have been polite or proper to let them come home without any clothes on, and considering the circumstances, Saiyajin armor seemed appropriate. /

Piccolo grunted. "Man, I don't know how much more of this I can stand. First Gokou gets a brain, next Dende gets sneaky. Maybe I should retire and take up flower arranging."

A soft, ethereal chuckle. / But I have intruded long enough. Please, Gokou-san, everyone, come and visit whenever you like. I'll be here. Ato de... /

"Bai bai, Dende-sama!" Gokou said, waving madly at thin air. "Sankyuu!!!!"

"Now, what's this about Perfect Cell'? Gohan asked. "What is Perfect Cell?"

"Was Perfect Cell, Gohan-san. It's--he's--dead now, thank Kami." Trunks sat down on the nearest stair. "It all started with Dr. Gero..."

*****

With a little gasp Bulma sat up, then caught her breath , feeling stiff and sore but a lot better than she had a few hours earlier. For a moment the surroundings made no sense, caught as she still was halfway in slumber that'd been cut short by a bad dream. Then things clicked into place and she recognized her own room at Capsule Corp. She sank back against the pillows, shivering as she remembered bits and pieces of the dream--Juunana-gou rising from the dead a third time, then melting like wax and turning into Perfect Cell... Firmly she put the pictures out of her mind and looked at herself. Her arms were swathed in bandages, and her broken limb had been properly placed in a plasti-steel cast. She wiggled the fingers experimentally--it hurt, but not too terribly much. She'd just have to take things a little slower than usual. Nodding in satisfaction, she started to swing her legs out from beneath the covers.

"Where are you going, baka?"

For the second time Bulma winced as she jumped. Then everything was forgotten as the speaker came out from the shadows by the window, where he'd been standing. He'd changed out of the armor into his usual black t-shirt and pants, and Bulma thought she'd never seen anything so magnificent in her life. "Don't call me stupid," she managed to force out against the rapidly rising lump in her throat.

"I'll call you whatever I want. I'm your mate, woman, and you'll do as you're told."

"Says who?!"

"I say so." Vegeta paced over and stood by the bed, arms folded, staring down at her. Something rustled softly against the leg of his jeans, and following the motion, Bulma caught her breath as she saw his tail lazily curl and uncurl. "Oh God, I forgot about those," she moaned, collapsing back to the pillows a second time. "I knew there was something I needed to do--"

"I don't think so. Maybe Kakarotto and his barely-smarter-than-a-rock offspring will let their tails be taken, but now that I have mine back, it stays." Reaching out, he switched on the bedside light, and Bulma instinctively held up a hand to shield her eyes for a moment at the flare. Then a hand under her chin tilted her face up to meet Vegeta's searching gaze.

"Hmph," Vegeta said after a moment. "I'd hoped a little age would improve your looks. Instead, you're as ugly as ever. Maybe even uglier, though I didn't think that was possible." He mock-sighed. "Good thing this miserable ball of mud has me to make sure no other man ever looks too closely at you. Any man that looks at you too long besides me would drop in his tracks."

Bulma blinked rapidly. I will not, I will NOT start crying-- Aloud she said tartly, "Oh? And what's your excuse?"

"I'm Saiyajin. I'm too tough to be affected, though of course I notice how hideous you are."

"Bakayarou!"

"Did I mention you have a foul temper also?"

Balling up her good fist, Bulma swung at him. Vegeta caught it easily and sat on the edge of the bed, studying the little fist closely, as if it were the most interesting thing he'd ever seen. Then he carefully forced the fist open, drew Bulma's palm to his lips for a gentle kiss.

At that touch Bulma's self-control shattered. The tears burst out of her in a storm delayed for years as she reached for him. "Vegeta--"

A moment was all it took for him to be beside her, arms wrapping around her. Bulma clung to him, her sobs so hard she shook the whole bed. The Saiyajin warrior said nothing, but his arms tightened just a bit more on her, holding her close until she cried herself out. "Idiot woman," he husked in her ear.

"Ha-hai," Bulma said, struggling to get her voice back under control. Abruptly she felt a tremor run through Vegeta and, startled, looked up at him.

Vegeta's eyes were tight shut,the shadows of some inner struggle skating across his features from time to time. Finally he opened his eyes and looked at her. "I...have...missed you, Bulma," he said, voice soft yet fierce.

With a tiny sigh of wonder, Bulma reached up to touch his face, then curled against his chest. Turning just a bit, Vegeta reached for the lampcord and pulled it, setting the room to darkness once more, and drew the bedcovers up over them both.

"Vegeta..." Bulma said timidly after a moment.

"What?"

"Your stomach's growling."

"To hell with my stomach."