I'll never forget that Summer. That summer I first touched the meaning of true love. The kind of stuff people write songs about, the ground shaking trembling that happens to you at a glance. The pure emotion that can only be love at its most distilled form. So sweet. Amazing that such beautiful feelings could spring up in a time that was marked with tragedy. Even today I can't look back at the war without smiling. The war was when I broke through the ice. When for the first time I saw the real him. It was the summer of my Saiyan soldier.
                                         ____________________________

   It was cold. Yamcha could still feel the chill of the approching fall, even through his jacket. He walked quickly toward the town's small store. People around him were all talking about the war that had been declared, against the Saiyans. All Saiyan blooded citizens of Earth were being rounded of and thrown into work camps. Prison camps.

    The ball player shivered. Thank the Gods no one realised that he was Saiyan by birth. His friends hadn't been so fortunate. Goku and Gohan, Goten, Trunks, Vegita, Bra. . . all of them were locked behind strong fences and kept chained. The heros of Earth. Didn't the humans see that they were locking up their strongest allies?!

    He entered the store and loitered around the shelves, trying to stay as long as he could in the warmth before he would have to go back into the cold. A little ki would warm him, but if he let anyone realize what he was. . . //God I'm getting as bad as them, thinking of Saiyan kind as what instead of who.//

    The chime on the door sounded and he looked up to see the camp guards letting the prisoners in. He bit his lip while he watched them file through the doors to spend what little they were allowed for their work.

    "Yamcha!" Gohan smiled and Yamcha's eye danced.

    "How you doin' kid?"

    The smile slipped a little, "I miss Piccolo."

    "He misses you too." Yamcha whispered, "He said if I saw you to tell you he loves you dearly and he would find a way to stop this madness." A smile reached his eyes and he chuckled, "He also says you had better keep practicing, being locked up is no excuse for slacking."

    Gohan smiled brightly, "That's Piccolo alright!" He nodded and then wipped away a tear, "Tell him I miss him ok?"

    "No sweat kiddo."

    He stood and walked over to the shelf Goku was standing at.

    "Thank you." Goku said quietly, so the guards wouldn't hear.

    "For what?"

    "Cheering Gohan up. This isn't easy for him."

    "And it is for you?"

    "I've known worst."

    Yamcha nodded, they had both been in more harsh situations than this. "I wish I could help."

    "Things will be back to normal as soon as the humans realize they're afraid of a dead people."

    "It's ridiculous. They. . ."

    "They're scared. We'll survive." He glanced worriedly over to Vegita.

    "What?"

    Goku blinked and turned back to Yamcha. "Huh?"

    "Why did you look like that?"

    "Like what?"

    The ball player smiled, "Never mind. Keep tough ok?"

    "Hey, I'm a Saiyan right?"

    "Right."

    Contrary to his easy manner, Yamcha hadn't given up the belief that something wasn't right. Goku had looked at Vegita like the guy was dying! He added a few items to his basket for apperence' sake and wandered over to stand by Vegita. "Ready to kill Goku yet?"

    "What are you talking about ningen." He sneared.

    "Well I just thought after being in an enclosed place with him for over a month you must be about ready to kill him."

    "If I *could* I would have done it by now!"

    That startled Yamcha, it wasn't like Vegita to admit defeat, especially relating to Goku. "Don't loose hope Vegita, you'll all be free soon."

    "You are naive."

    "Huh?"

    "Do you truly think they'll just let me go?"

    "Why not?"

    "I am the prince of the Saiyans. They won't release me with the others, they'll hold me as a political prisoner and once they find out Vegita-sei is dead, they will kill me."

    Yamcha couldn't say anything else to him since the guards choose that time to begin rounding them up.
 
 

    ~They won't release me~

    Vegita's voice played through his head that night. The pained look in his eyes as he said it wouldn't stop haunting him.

    ~and once they find out Vegita-sei is dead. . .~

    A clatter outside brought him jumping to his feat. Yamcha slid quietly out and peeked around the side of the house. "Vegita!"

    He ran to the shorter man's side and lifted him carefully, blood oozed out of his leg and side. He was unconsious. The clattering sound had been the prince falling into the pitching net he had build to keep his arm in shape. Not thinking of the consequences Yamcha carried Vegita inside and lay him on the bed the hurried for the first aid kit to clean out his wounds.

    "Nnnn. . ."

    "Vegita! Are you awake? Say something."

    "Why?"

    "What?"

    "They'll punish you baka. . . . for . . .  helping me. . . why?"

    Yamcha was caught off guard, why *was* he helping? Because they were friends. "You're my friend. Even if we don't really know eachother too well, we're still friends."

    "Hn. . . b. . . baka. . ."

    "Now don't waist your strength insulting me!" He insisted. "Rest. Heal up. No one will find you here."

    "don't. . ."

    "That isn't a request." Yamcha insisted, "Now can you eat some soup or do you need my help?"

    ". . ." Vegita looked starved but he turned away, "Not hungry."

    The ball player helped Vegita to sit up and fed him carefully. Not asking permission and therefor saving the Saiyan's pride.

    ". . . you. . ."

    "Shh, I'll help you finish this then you're going to sleep ok? The bed is big enough and I'm not leaving you alone. Kami knows what you'd do to my house!"

    A grateful flash passed over the stoic man and was gone.

    Yamcha finished the dishes and went to lay beside Vegita careful not to make to much noise.

    "I'm not asleep."

    He jumped, "SHIT! Vegita! You scared me!" He touched the man's forehead, "How are you feeling now?"

    "Alive."

    "Yeah, thank kami for small favors."

    "Can't sleep."

    "Why not?"

    "Hn, baka, they might find me. I can't let my guard down."

    "Then talk to me."

    ". . ."

    Yamcha laughed and slid, fully dressed, between the covers. "How did you escape?"

    "Painfully."

    Yamcha gave he a 'look' and Vegita rolled his eyes, "I killed a couole guards and flew out fast as I could. Didn't get clear before they started shooting though."

    "The bullet wounds aren't bad, they'll be alright soon."

    "Aa."

    "You can sleep, I'll keep watch."

    "Why?"

    Yamcha grinned, "A grumpy, tired Saiyan is not very safe company. Go on, catch some Zs."

    He looked dubious, "If you betray me, I'll kill you."

    "I believe you."

    ". . . you really want to help."

    "I told you that already."

    "You are a fool."

    "You said that too. Sleep."

    "Hn." Vegita glarred but he turned onto his side and closed his eyes, that small gesture meant he felt safe. That was enough for Yamcha.

    "Sleep well. My prince."

<Part 2>
 

    Vegita woke up to the sounds of life. A deep voice humming and water running. Yamcha immerged a moment later with a tray of food for him, "There you go. I know it's not much but they're rationing food now. . ."

    "It's fine."

    He smiled.

    "You are too easily pleased."

    "And you're too sour."

    "Hn."

    "So tell me what it was like."

    "What?"

    "Vegita-sei."

    "Why do you care?"

    Yamcha groaned, "For a prince you're sure thick!"

    "Hn?"

    "Look at me. The hair, the eyes."

    "So you look Saiyan."

    "I AM Saiyan!"

    Vegita stopped eating a moment and glanced at him. "Saiyan."

    "Yes." Yamcha reached into his baggy pants and pulled his tail free gently, "See?"

    "And you don't know about Vegita-Sei?"

    "I was sent away when I was very young. But I want to know!"

    "It's gone."

    "Why did I save your hide?" Yamcha huffed and walked from the room, "And you owe me a new practice net!"

    "If it weren't for that net I'd be out of here completely!"

    "If it weren't for that net catching you you'd have plowed right into my wall and I'd be scooping Saiyan brains off the concrete." He rolled his eyes, "Don't tell me about Vegita-sei if you don't want to. It's not like it matters anymore."

    Vegita looked at the Saiyan warrior's back and felt a pang of . . . what? Guilt?! //I don't do guilt. Hn. Damn ningen-saiyan. He should have been locked up with the rest of us. Coward.//

    "So what if I'm a coward? I can't help anyone from the inside of a wired cell now can I?"

    His eyes widened, "I didn't say that out loud."

    "No you didn't."

    "What kind of Saiyan are you?"

    "The creme filled kind."

    "Funny."

    "I thought so."

    The prince waited a few minuets then growled, "Fine, sit down. I'll tell you about the fucking planet."

    The way the baka's eyes lit up you'd think he was offering the world to him.

    "It was a lot like earth. Greener, more advanced technology, brighter moon, but still alot like Earth."

    "Do you miss it?"

    "Dumb question."

    Yamcha lowered his eyes, "Guess so."

    "Father made sure I knew everything I needed to about being a Prince, not that I'd need it but he didn't know that. Freezer took me away when I was very young, I never saw it again."

    "At least you had a father."

    "Hn."

    "My father was ashamed of me. I love to fight but I hate to actually 'kill' which made me worthless as a Saiyan. Then he found out about my . . . ability."

    "Telepathy."

    "Yeah. It isn't really developed, but it was there and he said it made me broken. He. . ."

    KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK "Open up! Police!"

    "Shit!" Yamcha grabbed Vegita's hand and rushed him over to a chest in the corner. He opened it and pulled everything loose then opened the bottom, "Get in, it's an old World War two bunker. Lock it from the inside and don't make a sound!"

    Vegita nodded, the thought that he was being ordered around by a low class outsider didn't occur to him at the time, though once he was safely hidden he cursed himself and Yamcha fluently in at least thirty languages.

__________________

    Yamcha scrubbed his hair to look disheveled and overed the door, yamning and looking at the police officers through sleepy eyes. "Uh. . . I didn't do it?"

    "What didn't you do?"

    "Whatever your here for."

    The officer laughed, "Hey no trouble slugger, we're just looking for a escaped Saiyan."

    Yamcha grinned. A fan! Kami was smiling today all right! "Hey no sweat, had to be getting up anyway. No Sian here." He smiled and tripped over the name as if it were unfamiliar, "Um. . . Seein'? Saying? What is it again?"

    "Saiyan."

    "Right."

    "I trust you but my comander asked me to search the houses in the area."

    "Yeah sure, you want a beer while you're here?"

    "I'd love one but I'm on the job, Soda?"

    "One Coke comin' up." He walked into the kitchen after spreading his hands in a go ahead gesture, "Check whatever you need to."

    "Thanks."

    "Sure. Always glad to help a fan out."

    ". . . Um. . . could I get your autograph before I go?"

    Yamcha walked back into the room and handed him the cold can, "Yeah, my pleasure."

    "Great!" He stood up from searching under the couch and bed. when he got to the chest though he paused. "Why is this bolted down?"

    "That's my ball playing gear, that last earthquake we had knocked the who thing over so I bolted it there for safety after I saw the mess."

    "Good idea. My daughter lost her whole china doll collection in the quake." He smiled and accepted the autograph happily, "Well all set."

    "Sorry I couldn't help more."

    "To tell you the truth I'm glad I didn't find him. I think the cheif's crazy for doing this, but he's the boss you know. Wherever he is though, he should stay hidden for the next few months. It'll take at least that for things to cool down here."

    Yamcha grinned, "I totally agree, but don't quote me on that. Hope I see you aroung man."

    "Yeah. Latter slugger."

_____________

    Vegita listened to the whole conversation from his spot beneath the chest. Yamcha lied far too easily. //Kakarotto did say he was a thief before he joined them, probably a con man too. He's protecting me.// That was a painful thought. For his pride he added a sarcastic thought of, //Maybe I should just turn myself in.//

    When the officer had been gone a good three hours Yamcha knocked on the bottom of the chest. "All clear. I think he was on our side, but better safe than sorry."

    "Hn."

    "Your Welcome."

    Vegita glarred at him and Yamcha shoved some food and a flashlight into the bunker, "What are you doing?"

    "He was right, things are too hot around here for you right now. You need to stay out of sight." He tossed some blankets and a pillow in as well and paused, "Do you read or something? You know, to pass the time?"

    "I spar."

    "No chance of that. way to attention getting." He tossed in some book, paper and writing utensils, "There, I know it isn;t much but bordome can kill you know."

    "Hn."

    "Well, back in you go."

    "What."

    "You need to stay hidden. I know you hate taking orders from anyone so I'm asking, not telling, but it would be much safer."

    Vegita glarred but nodded and turned back toward the chest. "Why are you helping me?"

    Yamcha blushed, "You. . . You're my prince."

    After he was locked safely away again he thought back on that blush with little mental ease. The image followed him into sleep.
 
    You're my prince

    //Hn. Baka.//

~tbc~