Piccolo's Fate
"Piccolo's Fate: A DBZ Love Story"
By Green Angel
Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter 3
Chapter Two
Inside the huge building, Bulma had finally managed to find some decent clothes for the much taller female. She now wore a baggy white T-shirt, a pair of jeans that were baggy on Bulma, but tight on the woman; Bulma had also managed to find suitable shoes for her, even though they were Vegeta’s weighted boots. The woman had a little trouble with them at first, but quickly adjusted to the newly added weight and walked with them easily… as if they weren’t even on her feet. That seemed a bit strange to Bulma, but she tossed the thought as soon as she saw the woman examining one of their many computers. At that site, Bulma turned to Yamcha. “Where did you find her?” She looked back at the woman who had begun clicking various buttons on the keyboard and watched with intrigue at the screen’s reaction to the button pushing. “She seems as though she’s never seen anything like a computer before.”
Yamcha piped up. “Or a car.” Bulma looked back at him. “When I was on my way here, she was acting the same way in my cruiser.” He gestured towards her with a slight wave of his hand. “Looking closely at everything, flipping switches here and there, pushing more buttons and turning more knobs than I could count just to see what would happen.”
They both turned to watch the woman who had already taken a seat in front of the computer and was now surfing the web furiously, pausing every once in a while to inspect a picture or a photo. “Strange,” Bulma muttered. “Almost as though she’s never been near civilization...” They watched her for a long while, just surfing the web, looking for nothing in particular. She finally sat back in the chair, clearly bored of the computer, and scanned the room for anything else to toy with.
An idea suddenly came to Bulma. “Are you hungry?” she asked, not really expecting the woman to understand, but not really concerned about communicating to her verbally, either. Well, not at this very point, anyway. The woman just looked at her. “You know... hungry?” was all Bulma could say. The woman continued to stare at her, waiting patiently as if understanding would come to her in any second. Bulma glanced a look of “help me out” towards Yamcha; he got the idea. He stepped towards the woman and held out his hand to her. She almost immediately took it and allowed him to guide her through the house as they followed Bulma to the kitchen.
At least she trusts us, now, thought Yamcha. When they arrived at Capsule Corp. and the woman first saw Bulma, she didn’t know what to think and was a bit hesitant to put faith into her. Of course, it was only natural for her, considering they were probably the only intelligent beings she’s ever seen before.
Yamcha politely pulled out a chair for her and she automatically accepted the seat. Bulma shuffled through the refrigerator for a while before emerging with an assortment of sandwiches, sodas, the remains of a cold turkey dinner, and various other foods from previous nights’ leftovers. Yamcha gaped as she dumped the mound of food onto the table before the green woman. She put the turkey in the microwave and started it up, catching the woman’s interest as the food slowly rotated inside the little black box with buttons on it. Going to the cupboard, Bulma got two glasses and shoved one into Yamcha’s hands. “Fill it with ice and pour her a soda.”
He paused before doing so, and Bulma walked over to the sink to fill her glass with water. Yamcha dumped the soda into the glass and Bulma took it from him and set it on the kitchen counter right next to the water. The woman, with her full attention on the rotating turkey now sizzling in the microwave, payed no heed to their actions. She was so thoroughly engulfed with the little black box that she flinched in surprise when the rotating ceased and a high-pitched beeping sound came from it. Bulma took out the hot, juicy, delicious-smelling plate of turkey and set it back on the table. Sitting down next to the woman, she gestured for Yamcha to sit down as well. “Let’s eat!” she said, and she immediately grabbed one of the several sandwiches, unwrapped it, and began to devour in hungrily. Yamcha, with plate in hand, reached across the table and dished himself up some greasy turkey, trying hard not to drool all over himself. The woman just sat and watched them, not quite sure about doing anything else.
After a few minutes, Bulma asked, “What’s wrong? Don’t you want to eat?”
Yamcha, with his mouth half full, agreed. “It’s very good.”
The woman looked from Bulma to Yamcha, and then down at the food. The heap of sandwiches lay on the left of a plate of slightly steaming turkey, all of it beckoning to be consumed. The woman looked down into her lap, avoiding the food and the two hungry people. Bulma, seeing the woman’s disapproval, set her sandwich down and patted her on the shoulder. “It’s okay if you don’t want to eat anything,” she said. The woman watched her get up and walk over to the kitchen counter. “But you should at least drink something.” Bulma returned with the glass of soda in one hand, and the water in the other.
She set them both down in front of the woman and took her seat, watching as the woman grabbed and glass of water and began chugging it down. Yamcha and Bulma just stared as she downed the glass without even bothering to stop for a breath. The woman then held the glass out to Bulma, as if asking for more. She went over to the refrigerator and pulled out a three-fourths filled gallon bottle of water. The woman took it from her, actually, she practically stole it from her as soon as she unscrewed the cap off. They gaped for several minutes as the woman drank and drank and drank. She finally leaned back, with the empty bottle in her hands, and exhaled loudly. She handed the empty bottle to Bulma and stood, wobbling a little back and forth. Yamcha and Bulma helped her into the living room where se slouched down on the couch, eyelids struggling to stay open.
They watched her slowly fall asleep on the couch with a first time filled stomach. Yamcha lifted her into his arms and Bulma led him to the guest bedroom, where he lay her down on the large bed.
They crept back into the living room, careful to not wake her from her semi-exhausted state.
Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter 3
