Taste of Crimson

Disclaimer: I don’t own DB/Z/GT or any of the characters found in this fic. They are the property of TOEI ANIMATION in Japan and FUNimation in the U.S.A. I am making no profit from this work of fanfiction.

A/N: There are so many wonderful other author’s fics. that I have read. It’s a huge list. If I were to try and list them all, it would be a whole separate chapter.

This chapter is dedicated to my beta, Mechanical Butterfly, and Noel. Get better soon ladies!!!


Type of story: PWP, A/U
Rating-R
Pairing: none, sorry folks, this is all angst and drama. (aka plot, what am I thinking?)

“x” indicates spoken dialog

‘x’ indicates thoughts

~X~ indicates telepathy


Seventh Chapter- ‘Nettle’


~o0o~

Things weren’t turning out quite as Vegeta had envisioned between Kakarott and himself when the Prince had enlisted his daughter’s dubious assistance. Sure, the sex was great, and virtually non-stop, but this wasn’t the Kakarott he had known and become infatuated by over the decades.

No, the Kakarott he loved had had two obsessions: food and fighting. That Kakarott had yet to make a re-appearance.

Although food was still a necessity, sex was this new version’s obsession. Anywhere any time. After their second tryst Vegeta realized he wouldn’t need any help on making the baka agreeable. The third class was a slut: his slut, but a nymphomaniac all the same.

On more than one occasion someone had gotten an eyeful they hadn’t wished too. Including the fool’s eldest son.

Thankfully none of the Z gang had put up any fuss. Vegeta knew he had Trunks and Goten to thank for smoothing the way. Any issues that would have been difficult to surmount had already been addressed because of the relationship between the two demi-sayians.

At first it had been great. He hadn’t minded so much when sparring matches had turned into battles over who could get who’s clothing off first. Dominance wasn’t even fought for, Kakarott just assumed the subservient role. Something Vegeta hadn’t thought he would be too concerned about, but now he wondered at these events. The Prince felt there should have been more of a challenge involved.

This behavior from the third class was becoming annoying, let alone, somewhere in his heart, the Prince knew it was also unhealthy. What he hadn’t noticed at first was how co-dependant and compliant it was on the other sayian’s part. Two characteristics sayians weren’t prone to. Sure, sayians were pack oriented, but the co-dependency Kakarott was displaying was debilitating, to both of them.

If Vegeta said he was put off, Kakarott would immediately stop his attentions. Then the imbecile would sulk, for DAYS.

Sex all the time was okay, if it weren’t for the emotional issues under the surface Kakarott wasn’t willing to or hadn’t dealt with.

Vegeta had thought he had triumphed over the baka’s melancholy. Now it seemed he may have a bigger problem on his hands.


~o0o~


Capsule corp. was doing well. Things had been tense when Bulma had first deserted the company. Stocks had plummeted and several investors had done some deserting of their own. Now, less than a year later, consumer trust had been restored and possibly even better than before he had stepped into his new and unplanned for role. Trunks believed a celebration was in order.

A second, quieter reason for the celebration was because Goku had seemingly come out of his depression. At least he was eating more these days.

So this was a catered event, paid for and hosted by C.C. It was a mingled group of friends, business partners and investors that filled the large banquette room on the forth floor of the C.C. head quarters.

Such a catered event gave Bra just the opportunity she was looking for. A barbeque, as would have usually happened had it just been friends of the family, was too random for her scheme to work. Sayians had a habit of just grabbing what food was closest and fastest.

With servers being sent to individual persons, Bra could tamper with a dish and make sure it was going to whom she wanted. It was almost a perfectly controlled environment.

Bra ground the ‘special’ spices over one dish in particular. She had just enough knowledge with them to be dangerous, and all of that had been learned second hand. ‘These may have not worked for my father, but I’ll see if I can make them work on my Son,’ she thought with a touch of impudence towards her father.

Too preoccupied with counting the embryos before they matured, she didn’t notice as a certain Son entered into the kitchen.

Goku stalled for a moment as he entered the enticing room. He had tried to behave himself, really, he had, but the smells were just too tempting, and this dinner event was taking too long. ‘Besides, if I eat a little now, I can be more polite in front of the rest of the company,’ he said to himself, trying to validate his little incursion before wandering away from some boring talk on ‘capsule this’ whatever.

Seeing Bra was what caused him to hesitate. However, with a couple of cooks and servers in the kitchen, it wasn’t as though she and he were alone. ‘Which is a very good thing,’ he calculated. Vegeta hadn’t been warm to him for a couple of days, and Goku didn’t need the Prince to think he was seducing Bra. ‘Too much trouble there.’

Goku and Bra had tried to steer clear of each other since the event that happened almost two months prier. Somehow they both managed, even living in the same building together. Neither wished to raise Vegeta’s ire, but they both had different motives for doing so. Bra didn’t wish to end up dead; Goku didn’t want to compromise his ‘source’.

“What cha doing in the kitchen Bra?” Goku asked over the clatter of pots and pans around the room. He had no wish to ‘sneak’ up on her.

Bra jumped a bit and snatched the spice grinder she was using behind her back. “Supervising?” she said, unconvincingly. Mentally she kicked herself for her lack of finesse, but she hoped the halfwit wouldn’t take notice.

Goku’s eyes narrowed and one of his eyebrows rose in disbelief. Bra’s actions claimed she was up to something. Besides, he had seen her grinding away above the bowl. ‘What is she doing that she doesn’t want me to know about?’ Contrary to his curiosity, Goku played the game much cooler than Bra was doing, “Well, I came to grab a snack. You won’t tell anyone, will you?” he asked disarmingly.

Bra fell for the act easily. “Of course not Goku,” she said in relief, “Just don’t eat the catered stuff, alright?” she admonished, while slowly pulling out a kitchen drawer and dropping the incriminating object into it. If it were any other male than Goku, she would have tried the flirting gig as a distraction to her actions. She knew Goku would be immune to such play after what had transpired between them. ‘Too bad daddy has such a tight pull on his strings,’ she regretted.

Goku stepped over to the refrigerator, pretending as though nothing abnormal was going on. He had, despite appearances, seen the young woman’s furtive motions, seen her put something into the drawer. After his brush with her deviant side Goku never took anything Bra said or did at face value. He slated the information for investigation later as he kept his pretense of food cravings and opened the door to the double wide fridge. Rummaging through, he took out a platter of sashimi.

“Goku, those are suppose to be appetizers,” Bra exclaimed when she saw his choice.

Goku smirked, “They still are really,” he said, and unabashedly used his fingers to put some of the small pieces of prepared fish into his mouth, “Besides, there are plenty of platters already waiting on the counter over there. This one must be extra if it was put back in here. Everything in here is catered, so something has to give, ne?”

Bra covered her eyes and groaned, but said nothing more. She hailed one of the servers to her side, and whispered into his ear. She put the cover over the soup bowl before she left after a quick glance at Goku. ‘I hope he doesn’t get snoopy.’

The young server nodded his head as she left. He took the bowl off of the counter and set it a little to the side of a stack of empty soup course bowls. Once again one of Goku’s eyebrows rose. ‘Maybe I should just see where that is going,’ he thought to himself as he slowed down on his food intake. ‘I may be late for first course, but this has me intrigued.’

A group of servers began walking in through the back entrance of the kitchen at that time. Goku was politely, but sternly told he was in the way as the young men started picking up other platters of the raw fish. The tall man smiled and took his tray to the other side of the large room. He received a few glowering looks for not vacating completely, but no one bothered him more as a soft bell was heard.

Goku could hear the sounds of a mingling crowd moving to take their seats before the appetizer course was served.

A few of the servers, after having delivered their first items, came back to the kitchen and started dishing the soup out. Still more servers started taking trays of covered bowls out to the awaiting guests.

When the young server in suspicion came back into the culinary room Goku stepped out and waited next to the doorway. When the young man came back out of the kitchen, carrying his tray, Goku headed towards his own seat, keeping an eye out for where those bowls were being served. He felt an awkward moment, as it seemed as though the boy was following him. Goku hastily pulled out his chair and sat down because his actions delayed the server from his own route.

“Where’ve you been Dad?” Goten asked. Everyone at the table looked at the man questioned for the same answer.

Goku smiled, and scratched his head, cornered, but also preoccupied with trying to follow the server’s movements. When the young man started setting out his goods at the same table Goku was sitting at, the full-blooded sayian noticed the seating arrangements. This table was apparently set aside for the ‘friend’ element of the party. “I went and got a snack,” he explained. There were several groans and much eye rolling from that comment.

“You didn’t eat everything while you were in there?” Videl asked, eyes having gone the widest of everyone sitting at the table.

“Sweetheart,” Gohan chided his wife.

Goku laughed, “No. Bra made sure I behaved myself.” If he hadn’t been looking at his son and his daughter-in-law at the time, Goku would have missed the slight flinch and faint blush that graced Gohan’s face at the mention of Ms. Briefs given name.

He paid hardly any attention to this though, as the server had just set one of the soup bowls in front of him before moving further down the table. He eyed the bowl wearily, not certain which one Bra had been tampering with.

Krillin laughed at his old friend’s antics, “I am sure whatever is in the soup is already dead Goku.” Everyone else laughed at the ex-monks jest.

Goku blushed a bit at being the butt end of his short, nose-less friend’s joke, but gave a half-hearted laugh, too.

Once everyone had a bowl set in front of them the whole group took lids off and began to sip or slurp at their soups, depending on their culture, or lack thereof.

Goku kept an eye out before tasting his, watching everyone else. When he did finally try it he found, to his surprise, it was just ordinary miso soup with some vegetables in it. He finished it without any more dallying.

He did notice Gohan reaching for his water glass a bit often for just soup. Goku made no commotion over this, other than tucking the information away and glancing at the head table where the Briefs family sat with more important business guests. He caught site of Bra just as she turned her head away from viewing their table.

Several courses and good laughs later, Gohan excused himself from the table politely. Goku noticed his face was a bit flushed and a thin sheen of sweat along his upper lip. ‘Whatever Bra did, she did it to my eldest’s soup,’ he concluded. He gave another hurried glance at the head table and noticed Bra had already excused herself without him noticing.

‘What’s that sneaky bitch up to?’ He thought to himself.

He made to go after Gohan, but was detained by questions directed to him from Eighteen about his training schedule, “I think my joints are getting rusty. I need to get back into training,” she explained.

Goku sighed before answering. He wasn’t going to be able to immediately follow his son.


~o0o~


By Gohan’s fifth glass of water Bra was concerned she may have over done it with the spices. Her father had told her these things took time to build up in a persons system, so she thought that adding a little extra would push things along that much faster. She knew the oldest demi-sayian was going to need the restrooms soon. She excused herself from the table thankful she wasn’t going to have to listen to the business discussions that were boring the hell out of her for a little while.

She caught an envious glance from her father and smiled encouragingly at him, but the sympathy never reached her eyes. She ignored the blatant stares from many of the creepy businessmen sitting at the table.

Trunks smirked and took note of who was staring hardest.

Bra opened the door to the men’s restroom, “Is there anyone else in here?” She asked the restroom attendant. When the young man shook his head she told him to get out. The young man didn’t even protest, just got up and walked out, the swinging door closing softly behind him. He had wanted a smoke break anyway.

Gohan was very confused and surprised to hear a female voice say, “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you last,” as soon as he had entered the restroom.

“Bra?” He squeaked out. The sheen of sweat now also crossed his forehead. He backed his way to the door, thinking in his hurry he may have stepped into the wrong bathrooms.

Bra stood up from the attendant’s chair she had sat in while waiting for Gohan to make his appearance. She took a couple of steps towards the harried man. “Seems like the last time I saw you, you were flushed just about the same way.”

Gohan gulped and his eyes started to go a little wild. “Bra, the last time… That last time I should have left immediately. I shouldn’t have stayed like I did.”

“Why did you stay?” Bra asked, her short steps bringing her within touching distance of the male she had cornered.

Gohan stayed quiet, not knowing of any good way to answer her question. He’d asked himself the same thing repeatedly, and still hadn’t come up with an acceptable answer.

Bra supplied one for him, “You liked what you saw,” she stated. “Want to see more? I’d like to show you more,” she purred to Gohan.

Warning instincts went off through Gohan’s body, “Bra, I am a happily married man. What you are doing isn’t proper, or appreciated.”

“Proper?” Bra scoffed, “Is it proper to marry a woman who’ll age twice as fast as you do? And the way you were panting, I am certain ‘it’ was more than and would still be appreciated.”

Gohan reached up to loosen his necktie. It was too hot and he really did need to use the toilets.

Just as he was about to make those intentions known he was shoved towards the wall behind the door as the door was shoved into his back.

“Bra,” Goku growled, before he realized what he had done. He reached out a steadying arm to his son before he turned his gaze back to the trouble making female, “What’s going on in here?”

“I needed to use the restroom. She was in here and I still haven’t made it past her,” Gohan said.

Gohan’s attempts to keep Bra quiet with a look failed, “I don’t think it’s any of your damn business what I am doing in here,” she huffed at Goku.

“I make it my business when I think you have poisoned my son,” Goku shot back, holding out the spice grinder he had snuck back into the kitchen to get for this confrontation.

Bra laughed. Gohan squeaked again, “WHAT?!”

“It’s not a poison you dolt. Those are just spices,” Bra informed her interrogator.

“Spices that do what?” Goku growled.

“Spices that make a man twice my age think that it’s alright to…” Bra trailed off, eyes going wide.

“Excuse me?!” Goku hollered.

Gohan looked at the intense couple between him self and the men’s urinals, and excused himself quietly, heading for the women’s restrooms. ‘I’ll come back and try to help dad out, but right now I have to PEE.’

“I’ll ask you again, spices that do WHAT?” Goku inquired.

Bra’s lips tightened. Then she realized she wasn’t going to get out of the restrooms without some sort of an answer. Frustrated by Gohan’s lack of cooperation, and her own failure of snaring him, she tired of keeping quiet for a convenience that no longer held any benefit for her own plans, “Why don’t you ask my father,” she suggested quietly.

“What does your father know of this?” Goku asked, thrown by the seemingly random suggestion.

“Ask him,” was all Bra said as she made for the door. When Goku made to impede her way, she grimaced at him. “If you touch me, or I touch you,” Bra threatened, “You’ll have my scent on you. How do you think my daddy will react to that?”

Goku blanched. Even if Vegeta wasn’t showing much interest the Prince could still be set off by the slightest provocation. Bra’s scent would be more than just a slight provocation. Goku growled as he stepped to the side to let Bra pass.

Goku counted to ten before taking a deep breath and heading back towards the banquette room. On his way down the hallway, he stuffed the spice grinder into the inside pocket of his suit jacket. Something wasn’t adding up, ‘If Bra was being honest, for a change, maybe Vegeta will be able to explain what his daughter is doing.’

He turned when he heard a yelp from the woman’s restroom, and watched as Gohan ducked out of the door while being assaulted by a purse swinging old biddy. Gohan slowed as he neared his father, straightening out his mussed clothing. He whipped his sleeve along his forehead.

“Some people’s children!” The old lady huffed before stepping back into the restroom.

Gohan grinned at Goku. Goku grinned back. Neither kept their grins for long as they headed away.

“I don’t know what Bra is up to Gohan, but she’s nothing but trouble,” Goku warned.

“Can we NOT talk about this?” Gohan pleaded. He hoped his father still had no clue as to what had happened several weeks ago. ‘I was so worried she was going to say something in front of my father,’ his flush deepened a bit. ‘I am no where near twice her age though.’

“Sure,” Goku replied, greatly relived, having secrets of his own he had no wish to bring to light about the blue haired wench.

He did have to know one thing though, “I don’t smell like Bra do I?”

“No dad,” Gohan said, and then they both let the matter drop.

~o0o~


Vegeta slipped into his training clothes. He was pleased the dinner was over, and hadn’t waited for the limousine to get home, choosing to fly instead. ‘The only thing that made the dinner bearable was the food,’ he thought to himself. His already highly tuned sense of taste had become even more selective after he self-taught knowledge.

The droning voices of the businessmen had almost brought him to tears out of sheer boredom. ‘Maybe I should take up killing again? Just businessmen,’ he thought as he walked towards the G.R. The thought brought a smile to his face, even if he had no intentions of ever going through with it.

His plans for training were dissolved as he entered the G.R. and saw Kakarott sitting on the floor, still in his suit. “Not tonight Kakarott,” he tried to brush the other sayian off.

“Vegeta, we need to talk,” Goku said, a little put off by Vegeta taking him for granted.

Vegeta rolled his eyes, “About what?” he asked as he headed towards the control panel.

Goku got up and met him at the G.R. controls, “This,” he said, reaching into his pocket, pulling out the grinder and setting it on the panel.

“It’s a spice grinder.” Vegeta stated sarcastically.

“I know that Vegeta. When I asked Bra what she was doing with it, and why she was using the spices for my son’s food, she said I should ask you,” Goku explained.

Vegeta crossed his arms and didn’t look at Kakarott as he spoke, “I don’t know why she was using them on your son.”

“Do you know what they are for?” Goku inquired. He reached out and grabbed Vegeta’s shoulder as the Prince started to step away. “I want answers.”

Vegeta sneered at the hand on his shoulder, “Yes, I know.”

“Well?” Goku urged.

Vegeta laughed, “To brighten the eyes and strengthen the loins,” he quipped. He shrugged the rough hand off of his shoulder.

“Huh?” Goku asked, confused.

“When you were depressed and wouldn’t take the antidepressants, I started investigating other alternatives,” Vegeta elaborated.

Goku’s eyes narrowed, “Have you been putting this in my food?”

“I was,” Vegeta answered.

“How did Bra learn about this? And why would she want to give my son antidepressant spices?” Goku asked.

“Herbs,” Vegeta corrected.

“Huh?” Goku coached.

“The antidepressants were all herbs,” Vegeta clarified.

“So what are the spices? What’s the difference?”

Vegeta closed his eyes, and took a deep breath, ‘This could get ugly,’ he thought to himself. He contemplated evading the real answers Kakarott was looking for, but decided the baka really wanted to know what the spices were for, rather than the difference between spices and herbs. “I changed my tactics hoping a distraction would pull you out of your dolor. I needed to use something stronger, more base.”

Vegeta received no reply to his explanation. “I hoped livening your instincts would pull you together,” he tried to elaborate without saying every last detail.

Goku stood for a moment in shocked silence. What Vegeta was saying and what transpired that night between Bra and Gohan were starting to piece together.

“You were being thick headed, and still weren’t eating enough food to get enough of the spices into your sys…” Vegeta started to go into more detail when he was rudely interrupted.

“You drugged me hoping I would want sex? With you?” Goku was incredulous. ‘But that’s not what had happened,’ “With Bra?”

“Yes. NO!” Vegeta responded to the rapid accusations. He tried to get a further explanation in, “It wasn’t suppose to go that far betw…,” Vegeta suddenly found himself impacting against the G.R. wall.

“You Bastard,” Goku hissed. The third class sayian was hurt and pissed. If the facts were actually fitting correctly together he’d been duped into his relationship with Vegeta. ‘Whatever kind of light he tries to put on his actions, he still manipulated me.’

He had actually started to have feelings for this LIAR.

Vegeta groaned and rubbed the back of his head, his fingers pulling away stained with blood. “You never ate enough of the food for you to be influenced,” he tried to explain from his position on the G.R. floor. “Your appetite didn’t come back to sayian standards until afterward. You haven’t had either since before that afternoon.”

Goku had heard enough from this conniving cur. He didn’t need this. He didn’t need Vegeta: at least not like he thought he had, if this was all true, and Vegeta wasn’t contesting any of he’s theories. As a matter of fact, he’d admitted they were all correct. “You used me. You used your own daughter!” Goku paced the cold floor, “To get to me?!” His pacing halted as he shouted, “FUCK YOU.”

Vegeta’s own temper got the better of him. Bra hadn’t done anything she hadn’t wanted to. Neither had Kakarott for that matter, after the first time anyway, “If I recall correctly, it is YOU who likes to be fucked.” Vegeta’s eyes widened at his own statement. ‘Curse me and my sharp tongue.’

Goku stared at the thing on the floor. He seriously contemplated Kamehameha’ing its ass.

“So the bitch takes after her sire. I hope you and your harlot daughter get what you deserve,” he cursed instead. He picked up the spice grinder from the panel and threw it at the G.R. wall above Vegeta. The wooden container embedded in the wall, splintered open and rained hundreds of tiny seeds on the fallen Prince’s head.

By the time Vegeta opened his eyes from the miniscule onslaught Goku had already I.T.’ed elsewhere.