Author’s Notes: This is a story that I began several years ago. Then, it lacked much of the experience in writing that I now possess. Upon my visit to Manawolf's home in Los Angeles, I told her about my old story idea. Inspired by it, we began discussing it more and I realized that with her help my old story could be revived. We made quick plans to rewrite it together, sharing our talents and livening the story far more than it could have ever been before. Along the way, our eagerness aimed toward our artistic abilities. Thus, along with the writing, we drew, rather, illustrated major scenes that take place throughout the entire story.
(I will soon be constructing a web page where all the pictures can be kept together in chronological order)

The Wild Side
By Vege_Chan and Manawolf

Lazy mid-summer serenity pervaded a clearing as creatures of all natures went about their normal routines. An occasional cicada buzzed among the bordering forest lush with mature growth, content to sing into the grass-fragrant air. Dragonflies hovered and chased among the cool shade cast by overhanging trees. Rabbits slept in their warrens as birds rustled the underbrush for seeds.

The main of the clearing itself, however, was left to its own devices by larger animals, save for one pair. Two lone figures stood before one another, avenging angels embraced in the golden lights of an inner heaven. No words needed to be exchanged. Both knew what they were there for; in silent perfection they evaluated each other’s every breath.

Vaulting forward, the smaller of the two threw the first attack. Remorseless energy crackled around a closed fist as it struck flesh, the opening charge successful. A smirk graced the attacker’s face as ascension met ascension.

Quicker than the human eye could follow, their attacks collided in mirrored precision. Neither held back, sweat mingling with their successive cries to be the victor of the day’s particular battle; an activity as routine as the cicada’s song and dragonfly’s chase, but one that never failed to hold their undivided passion. So involved were they in their attempt to best each other that they failed to notice an additional presence, a cold vacuum in the normally warm buzz of nature’s doings.

A sharp pain in his shoulder tore a yelp from the larger of the two. He spun, hand reaching over his side to find what had caused him to lose his focus. But, by then, the potent drugs lacing the needle-like dart had already begun to take effect. He fell heavily to his knees, unconscious before his face hit the dirt.

The smaller, cursing in a mixture of anger and confusion, crouched beside his fallen comrade, only to be struck in a similar fashion.

Drunkenly, he looked around him, hoping to find the individual who had dared to do such a thing. Nothing revealed itself and it wasn’t long before he too, succumbed to the darkness of unconsciousness.

Their attacker stealthily slipped from within the shadows into the open, toting a small gun in one hand. It loomed over the slumbering saiyajin, an unmistakable smirk marring its normally vacant expression.

Lifting one wrist to his lips, he whispered a confirmation to the stranger at the other end of his com link. The mission had been completed without difficulty. All he had to do next was bring them to his master. There, he would be praised for a job well done.

With an inhuman ease, he slung a body over each shoulder and took to the skies. It would be a long flight, but he had little worries of either man waking any time soon. The plans had been executed flawlessly. All that awaited the two unsuspecting warriors was what his master, the doctor, liked to call ‘blissful evolution’.

The cicada was silent.

~~~

Dark eyelashes fluttered as ebon eyes strained to focus upon a fathomless night sky. Innumerable diamond-like stars swirled dizzyingly through his vision. The sheer intensity of it embraced him and for a moment, all he wanted was to be consumed by it.

Vegeta frowned, wondering if he was still dreaming. His last coherent memory was of he and Kakarotto sparing. Upon thinking of his opponent, the saiyajin prince turned his head, finding the Earth-raised Saiyajin laying at his side.

Goku slept fitfully, curled against Vegeta’s warm body in an attempt to avoid the cold of a cloudless night. He too was shorn of his clothes.

Vegeta feebly sat upright; he was bothered by the idea that he could not recollect anything that may have lead to the current situation. His companion woke, startled that his source of warmth suddenly moved, allowing a rush of cool air to chill his face.

“Ve..ge…ta…,” he rasped.

The prince coughed dryly, his parched throat restricting his speech to nothing above a harsh whisper. “What… -cough- the fuck…happened?”

There was no response. He could only imagine that Kakarotto was as clueless as he - and the fact that he, the Prince of all Saiyajins, knew no more than the amnesiac fool was almost as disturbing as the situation itself.

Goku rubbed his eyes with the balls of his hands, confused and disoriented. "Why are we naked?" he asked, blinking rapidly.

Vegeta looked away, his face turning a lovely shade of red that was thankfully concealed by shadow. “I do not know…”

A tense silence followed, for neither man could think of what to say. Night sounds blissfully continued around them as each pondered what to do next. It seemed that no matter how hard they tried, their memories remained blurry.

A frog croaked nearby, breaking the larger of the two from his reverie. Cold and hungry, he stood, legs trembling weakly. "I want to go home," he replied softly. "The sooner we do, the quicker we can figure things out."

Surprisingly, the prince said nothing in retort and quietly followed his ally.

Goku had pretty much guessed that, like him, Vegeta would want to get dressed and fill his belly with good food. The will to survive superceded the need to piece together the mystery of what caused their current condition. As frustrating as it was, it would have to wait.

Although they knew where they were going, the walk seemed longer than usual. Neither one spoke, focusing on the only thought of getting to their destination. They could have flown, but both lacked the reserves to do so. Anyone with proper knowledge would know that without nourishment, a saiyajin couldn’t function properly, let alone fly.

The promise of what they knew would come kept them going. Just beyond the treetops, an aura of city lights illuminated the midnight sky. It was there that Capsule Corporation lay, foretelling the end of their brief misery.

Reaching the borders of the living area, Goku could go no further. The last of his energy reserves were drained, and he struggled with the simple effort required to stand. Wobbling, he leant to catch himself with his hands.

Vegeta paused, suddenly worried. “Kakarotto?”

“So...tired,” Goku mumbled.

Contemplating what to do, he looked from the building to Kakarotto. Security would have detected them by now. Motion sensors were planted all around the compound to protect it from possible vandals and or sudden attacks. She would come… there was no doubt. He was loath to depend on her charitable rescue, but for now, exhaustion overwhelmed pride.

He sat, trying desperately to keep his eyes open. “We’re here, you ass…” he hissed, giving the taller man’s shoulder a nudge.

An unintelligible moan was all that answered.

Nnn… Baka….” Vegeta bowed his head as his shaking legs gave way and slipped limply to the ground, no longer able to fight the will to sleep.

~~

Restrained…. He hated being restrained. It reminded him of those claustrophobic years in space… that and the darkness, so thick and inky-black that no matter how hard he tried, it pulled him down, away from consciousness…

Voices, snippets… he knew they were words he ought to recognize, but he couldn’t piece them together. If only things were put in the right order, he’d know everything, he’d know what was going on, but he couldn’t maintain focus long enough to DO that… and the darkness kept dragging, pulling. Dark…

And… then there was a light, but it wasn’t the light he wanted. It was the cold, off-color light of a laboratory or hospital. He didn’t have Kakkaroto’s fear of needles, but that didn’t mean he was fond of medical wards, having spent far too much time in them himself.

In that light… in that light… eyes. Not any eyes he knew. Cold, ice blue eyes studying him as if he were a bug on a table… or worse. The prince of Saiyajins never fled, but he did this time as the light illuminated those piercing eyes, and the eyes brought pain…

He found the blackness preferable.

~~

Goku lay very still. The covers were drawn to his chin, keeping him warm as he slept; he was blissfully unaware of how he’d gotten there. All that mattered was that the cold of the outdoors no longer plagued him and he could finally rest.

His stomach growled noisily, reminding him of the whole reason why he couldn’t move. Gods, it’d been so long since he’d eaten he couldn’t even remember his last meal. Licking his dry lips, he waited, eyes closed.

It wasn’t long before he heard the sound of approaching footsteps climbing the stairs. He already knew that it was Bulma, but that wasn’t his main focus. Following her presence, the alluring scent of food flowed into the room, deliciously pervading his nostrils.

He opened one eye, practically tasting the savory flavor of miso soup and ramen. With a grumbling stomach, he suddenly regained his energy and sat up right, eagerly awaiting his meal to be delivered.

Bulma, already expecting the larger saiyan to rise at the mention of food, rested a heavily-loaded tray onto his lap. She stood back as he grabbed the chopsticks and began to viciously tear into his dinner, slurping and making pleased noises. Her friend was certainly acting normally, for Goku. With a faint smile, she turned to the prince who had yet to awaken.

It had been so long since they disappeared. She had thought there was no hope in finding either one of them ever again. Yet, early in the cold morning, they were laying unconscious in her lawn. The motion detectors were the first to sense their arrival. Awakened from a restless sleep, she turned to the activated surveillance videos and couldn’t believe what she saw.

So many questions ran through her mind. Where had they gone? What happened to them? Why were they naked? Do they remember any of it?

Approaching Vegeta’s bedside, Bulma leaned over him, noticing the restless twitching of his limbs and eyelids. He must be having a dream. Lowering her gaze to the tangle of sheets at his torso, she busied herself straightening them.

Amidst the wild kaleidoscope of frightening images, he felt the touch of something upon his chest; warm explorative hands. With gentle caresses, they carefully lifted a cool sheet over his shoulders.

He jolted awake and turned a half-conscious gaze toward the source of this sensation. The blood in his veins ran cold; eyes, the color of the sky, stared down at him. Cold, ice blue eyes studying him… A fear that he had only recently suppressed suddenly surfaced and his hand instinctually flew up in an act of defense.

War-callused fingers curled tightly around her throat, dangerously restricting her air supply. He growled, his eyes failing to see or recognize the human woman, despite the fact that they were focused straight on hers.

She writhed, rasping and choking in an attempt to catch a breath of air. In a desperate attempt to free herself, she slapped him across the face, hoping to knock some sense into him before he killed her.

Goku paused, eyes wide in disbelief of what he was seeing. He gripped the comforter, ready to leap in to assist his friend at a moment’s notice if things got even the slightest bit more serious.

Vegeta blinked several times, his vision flashing red when she struck him. Although he hardly felt it, his grip loosened as the realization of where he was sunk in. It had been a dream; the eyes actually belonged to Bulma? Confused, he released her.

Bulma fell back against the foot of the bed; she coughed and gasped, face red with exertion.

“Bulma…”

“I’m… –wheeze- fine Go…ku…,” she rasped. She waved a hand in his direction, reassuring him. “Still alive.” She turned uncertainly to Vegeta, one hand cradling her neck where an angry bruise had already begun to show.

Vegeta sat upright in silence, avoiding the look she was giving him.

“Vegeta, are you alright?” Goku asked worriedly.

“Nh… I’m all right. As for you woman, you shouldn’t be leaning over a person like that when they’re dreaming! I could have killed you!”

Bulma cleared her throat, and rose on unsteady feet. “Thanks for reminding me,” she sniped. Really, he didn’t need to tell her that! It was quite obvious, and she was hardly stupid.

Goku once again resumed his voracious feeding, drinking miso broth from a large porcelain bowl.

Vegeta watched him, his own mouth watering at the thought of filling his aching belly. “Where the hell is mine?”

Rolling her eyes, Bulma tossed back her hair. “You were sleeping so I didn’t get yours yet. Besides, when did I become your servant?”

Rubbing his temples, Vegeta rested against a pile of pillows. For once, he didn’t want to fight, just food. “I’m not in the mood to bicker with you this evening.”

“Well we’re going to have to talk about SOMETHING tonight. After all, you have been missing for over two weeks!”

The room fell eerily silent as both Saiyajins froze.

Goku’s dark eyebrows rose in surprise, several forgotten noodles hanging out of the corner of his mouth. “TWO WEEKS?”

TBC…