Disclaimer: As an American college student, I am able to say with perfect honesty that I own absolutely NOTHING.

Summary: BV. Set on Namek. Bulma gets an unexpected surprise when she is rescued by two very familiar people who claim that they have come from the future to stop an evil threatening to change all of time and space. Yup. Just your average day.

Notes: And now the others come in. You know, this is going in a completely different direction than I originally thought. Go fig. Don't worry, it's still good – and you get a few more surprise characters. *wink* Give a guess, guys! There will be at least 2 characters (maybe 3) that shouldn't be there and 2 more that get bigger roles than I had originally planned for. And I'm debating changing the title, let me guys know what you think.

Chapter 3: Shadowed Horizons

It felt like they had been flying for much too long, Gohan thought, even though in reality it had only been a few, unbearably tense minutes. He didn't know what they would do after they retrieved the Dragonball from Bulma; he and Krillin couldn't just give it to Vegeta, he knew that much, but he could feel the powers racing towards Namek drawing closer, and he also knew that without a strategy of some kind, they wouldn't stand a chance against the Ginyu, even with Vegeta as an ally.

So involved in his worries, Gohan almost didn't notice when both Krillin and Vegeta stopped short, and barely avoided colliding into the both of them. "Hey, guys, what's – "

And then he felt it. Two huge powers, stronger than anything Gohan had ever sensed before, had just appeared somewhere to the west. "Wow…"

"No kidding," Krillin said, awestruck. "Where do you think they came from?"

"Why does it matter?" Vegeta responded with a growl, eyes narrowing to slits. "They're near where that woman of yours is keeping the last Dragonball. I doubt it's coincidence."

"What? Bulma? Oh, shit…" Krillin looked horrified.

Gohan frowned and concentrated harder, dark eyes sliding shut to block out distraction; one ki was more than familiar to him, but it had been so strong… could it be? Yes! Yes, it was!

"It's my dad! Krillin, it's okay, it's Dad, I can tell!" Gohan shouted. Vegeta's head jerked around sharply to fix the young boy with a wide stare.

"Kakarotto? You're certain?"

"…It is! I don't believe it!" Krillin let out a whoop. "Incredible!"

Vegeta scowled deeply, but Gohan paid him no mind. With his dad there, and so powerful, the Ginyu wouldn't be any problem – even Furiza's ki didn't compare!

"But Gohan, who's with him?" Krillin's voice cut through Gohan's thoughts. "I didn't know he was with anybody."

Oh. That was right. Gohan frowned and focused on the second ki, nearly as strong as his father's. It too was vaguely familiar… it felt a little like… Gohan's eyes slid over to where Vegeta hovered, the scowl deepening on his face. Krillen seemed to be having similar thoughts, because he too was eyeing Vegeta with a strange look.

"Hey, uh, Vegeta…" The monk stuttered slightly. "You… you don't have any relatives or anything, do you?"

"Unlikely," Vegeta scoffed. "Not with a power level like that."

This didn't feel right. If Gohan had learned one thing from his time with Piccolo, it was how much work and training it took to increase your strength even the tiniest fraction. And as amazing as his dad was, Gohan knew it wasn't possible for him to have grown this much in power this quickly – the energy he sensed now was absolutely massive, completely dwarfing everything except for the other mysterious ki that had appeared alongside it. It was more than a little disturbing, and glances at Krillen and Vegeta told him that although the bald man didn't seem to have picked up on this detail yet, Vegeta was keenly aware that something was off.

"We need to check this out, guys." Gohan really wanted to believe it was his dad, and that they were saved, but his common sense told him to be cautious. Krillin shot him a sober glance.

"…You think there could be trouble?"

"Naturally." Vegeta cut in with a growl, eyes narrowed. "They're moving this way. Come on."

Vegeta took off in a blur of blue and white, racing towards where the strangers had appeared. Gohan and Krillen, after a moment, scrambled to catch up with him. Maybe heading right towards the most powerful beings they'd ever sensed without knowing if they were friend or foe wasn't the best idea in terms of survivability, Gohan thought as he struggled to keep up with the prince, but it certainly was the most efficient way to find out what was going on.

'And Bulma's somewhere over there too,' he reminded himself. He only hoped that she was okay.

"This is boring," Bulma complained for the fifth time in past fifteen minutes, draping herself dramatically over a mossy boulder, surreptitiously eyeing the two saiyajins out of the corner of her eye. She could tell her whining was grating on Vegeta's nerves, although he was doing an admirable job of ignoring her, and that was half the reason she kept at it. She was fairly certain that Goku wouldn't let Vegeta kill her, and so she'd decided to be as obnoxious to the bastard as she possibly could be without being too obvious about it. He deserved a hell of a lot more than her whining on and on, but hey, she'd do what she could. "You guys couldn't have let me grab a few magazines before we left?"

"Sorry, Bulma," Goku, ever the predictable nice-guy, apologized. "It's not really something I'd think of…"

She sighed and pushed herself to her elbows. To be honest, a magazine would be nice. The only mags she had on her were the ones for her Uzis, and they weren't much for entertainment value. "When are the others going to get here? I thought you said they'd be here soon."

"For Kami's sake, shut up, onna!" Ah, there was the temper. Even as she jumped, Bulma found herself irrationally pleased that she'd finally gotten to the foul-tempered prince. Vegeta glared at her from where he skulked in the shadow of a high cliff face. "I can't believe you're still this obnoxious –" He stopped abruptly mid-sentence, two spots of color appearing high on his cheekbones.

…Now that was interesting. Bulma raised a brow and sat up fully, leaning forward in interest. "So, you know me then? I'm around in your time?"
Vegeta clenched his teeth and glanced sideways over at Goku, who just bit his lip and looked like he was trying very hard not to say anything. He had always been lousy at keeping secrets; Bulma made a mental note to press him for answers later, already realizing that getting any truly useful information from the saiyajin prince would be nearly impossible. That didn't mean she wasn't going to give it her best shot, though. Bulma raised a brow.

"Well, I'm waiting…" Bulma forced herself to suppress a giggle. She couldn't fathom why the question had him so flustered; if he really was hanging around with Goku in the future, it only stood to reason that he would know her as well. His reaction was… intriguing, to say the least.

"…I live on Earth. I know everyone in your little group," Vegeta replied blandly, his face a careful mask of indifference. Bulma's suspicion was piqued; he was very obviously leaving something out, but Bulma wasn't sure what, and she didn't quite know what questions to ask to figure it out. So she settled on annoying Vegeta again.

"…So am I as pretty fifteen years from now as I am today?" She batted her eyelashes coquettishly and grinned, knowing it was bound to grate on Vegeta's nerves.

To Bulma's bewilderment, Vegeta appeared to choke for a moment, before composing himself and growling out, "You're uglier than ever."

"What!" Bulma huffed. "I'll have you know I'm the prettiest girl you'll ever meet! Your stupid monkey senses are just too backwards to recognize real beauty when you see it!"

Briefly she was struck with a sense of déjà vu; she remembered saying the exact same thing to Goku when she first met him years ago. Goku must have been thinking along similar lines, because Bulma saw the beginnings of a smile twitching at the corners of her friend's mouth. But Goku hadn't even known what a girl looked like; Vegeta didn't have that excuse. In a fit of childish pettiness, Bulma stuck out her tongue at the prince…

Who was no longer paying her any bit of attention.

Both Vegeta and Goku were gazing up at the sky, where three tiny dots had appeared over the horizon and were moving their way.

"Looks like they're here."

The carnage within the tiny Namekian village was absolute. Dead bodies littered the ground; many of the corpses were charred and mangled, fresh blood still flowing freely from gaping wounds, and the stench of burnt flesh hung in a low cloud over the mountains of rubble. Small fires still burned where ki blasts had struck, and there was a myriad of new craters in the soft soil, several already filling with water. In the center of it all, Sanzoku stood in silence, unaffected by the massacre.

He growled low in his throat as he felt the presence of the two saiyajins appear on Namek; somehow they had managed to get through his rip before it closed. That complicated things. Still, the original plan was the same. He would just have to hurry and gather the Dragonballs before the saiyajins found him. Avoiding the two savages wouldn't be too difficult; within seconds he had completely hidden any trace of his ki. Many races had learned to mask their energy by lowering it to almost nothing, but the ability to both use ki and hide it entirely, at the same time… it was a trait held only by a mollusk race in the Southern Quadrant, and the Imitari had been lucky enough to meet one in his travels.

Getting a hold of the Dragonballs, however… that was going to be more challenging than he expected. Someone else on the planet was apparently searching for the balls as well, and the Nameks were highly suspicious of anyone asking around about them. Oh well. People were easier to search when they were dead.

He surveyed the destruction around him with impassive black eyes. The amount of energy these Nameks held was pitiful, and their abilities seemed limited to regeneration and healing. Sanzoku scowled, his hands clenching and unclenching in agitation. There had been no Dragonball in the village, and he had noticed that his grey marbled skin had developed a faint green tinge from absorbing so much Namekian ki; anxiously he raised a hand to his skull to check if any antennae had sprouted. None had. He could never tell exactly what traits he would take away when he drained his victims – it was always a toss up, and sometimes the effects were more pleasing than others.

"A wasted endeavor," He muttered to himself, rising slowly into the air. With this other person collecting the Dragonballs as well, it was impossible to say where any of them were at the current time. He needed more information. Allowing his slanted eyes to slide closed, Sanzoku reached out with his senses for any indication of a direction to travel.

There, to the north.

It was some kind of temporary base, he could tell; it's inhabitants were clearly not Nameks, judging by their ki levels. One in particular stood out from the others. If that wasn't a good indication of where he might find some Dragonballs, he didn't know what was.

Smirking, Sanzoku set off, leaving the still-smoldering village in ruins.

Bulma and her two companions watched stoically as the three faint shapes in the distance slowly grew larger and larger, until the outlines of Gohan, Krillin, and Vegeta were clearly visible against the pale green of the sky.

"Gohan! Krillen!" Bulma cupped her hands around her mouth and called out to them, then waved. As angry as she was about the two boys leaving her alone for so much of their adventure on Namek, it was good to see the both of them alive and well. "Over here!"

Beside her, Vegeta rolled his eyes. "They know we're here, stop being ridiculous."

Bulma quashed the urge to stick out her tongue. "Well, excuse me for having the manners to greet my friends. I would think a prince," she huffed, putting extra emphasis on the title, "would have some idea of such niceties."

A snort. "A prince would not be caught engaging in such foolish shouting and flailing about, nor would any true saiyajin –"

"Hey guys!" A shout from Goku interrupted Vegeta, whose eyebrow twitched slightly in irritation.

"…I believe my point has been proven." The prince stalked off to lean against the cliff face once again, apparently too disgusted by his companions' antics to remain in their company. Bulma didn't mind. Good riddance to him.

"Goku?!"

"Daddy!!"

Twin shouts rang through the air as Krillin and Gohan barreled through the air. The bald monk skidded to a halt on the ground a few feet in front of his oldest friend, his shoes digging shallow ruts in the soft dirt, a brilliant smile on his round face; Gohan didn't even bother to slow down as he slammed full force into his father's chest, wrapping his little arms and legs around Goku's muscled torso and burying his face in the orange gi, tears of joy flowing freely down his cheeks. Vegeta's entrance was more subdued; he landed lightly at the edge of the island, looking deeply agitated and more than a little wary.

"Sugoi, Goku…" Krillen looked up at the saiyajin in awe. "It's great to see you again, but… how did you get so powerful?"

There was a short pause. "Well…" Goku gave his young son one last squeeze before putting him down. He seemed to think for a moment before continuing. "Anou… I don't really know a good way to put this, so – we're from the future."

"We – the future – what?" Krillen spluttered, mouth agape. Gohan simply stared up at his father with wide eyes.

"…'Tousan?"

Goku smiled gently at his son. "Yeah, Gohan, it's me, just a bit older than normal, that's all."

Bulma jumped as Vegeta took a step forward. "I don't have time for Kakarotto's delusions," he barked, focusing on the orange sphere at Bulma's feet. "I need the last Dragonball, now."

Bulma's heart leapt to her throat. This was their time's Vegeta, the evil tyrant who had been terrorizing them since they landed. Fear gripped her, but she stood her ground. "Fat chance, vegetable breath."

She snatched up the Dragonball from where it had been resting in the grass and held it against her chest protectively, drawing courage from her friends around her. After all, it was herself, Krillen, Gohan, and Goku against the prince; surely Vegeta didn't stand a chance.

"Hold it, Vegeta." Krillen and Gohan sank into fighting stances, ready to attack. Goku watched silently, his normally open face inscrutable. "We never said we were willing to just hand over the Dragonball."

"Kono yaro!" Vegeta spat. "Without the Dragonball, everyone here is as good as dead!"

Gohan took a step forward, eyes hard. Bulma felt a pang as it struck her just how much Gohan had been forced to grow up in the past two years. It wasn't fair.

"Not with my dad here. He can beat anyone."

"Yeah, Goku can take 'em, no problem."

Vegeta swore again, and Bulma could see a vein on his temple pulsing in anger. "Idiots!" And then, faster than Krillen and Gohan could follow, he lunged for the ball Bulma had clutched in her arms. She let out a terrified shriek and squeezed her eyes closed, waiting to be blasted into oblivion.

She heard the loud smack of flesh hitting flesh, and then a firm crunch and a gasp. When nothing else followed, Bulma cracked one eye open to see Vegeta inches from her face, a look of surprise and pain on his face underneath the perpetual anger, his raised fist held immobile by another, slightly larger gloved hand.

With a gasp, Bulma looked over at Mirai Vegeta, who wore a look of such concentrated fury it was frightening in its intensity. Slowly, he increased his grip on the younger Vegeta's hand, forcing the smaller man back several steps, and then twisted the joints back to force him to his knees. Mirai Vegeta smirked as he heard the delicate bones snap and break under the pressure. Bulma couldn't help but wince at the sound. To his credit, Vegeta refused to cry out; the only outward signs of his discomfort were the sheen of sweat on his forehead and the set of his teeth, bared in a snarl.

"What? Two Vegetas? This doesn't make any sense…" Bulma faintly heard Krillin's voice, but no one answered him. All eyes were focused on the two near-identical saiyajins facing off in front of them.

"...Give me one good reason not to kill you where you stand." Mirai Vegeta's voice was low and gravelly, and Bulma shivered at its dark intensity.

"Wait, Vegeta. You know you can't do that." Goku took a few steps toward his companion, looking alarmed.

Mirai Vegeta snorted and released his counterpart's hand, kicking him to the ground for good measure. "I know that." He huffed. "I was going to stop… after a little begging from this yamazaru." He glanced down at where Vegeta was pushing himself to his feet, his right hand dangling uselessly.

"I don't beg for anything, or anyone." The younger man spat, looking murderous.

There was a pause. "...That's what you think." Mirai Vegeta answered cryptically, his voice strange.

With a howl of rage, Vegeta powered up and struck at his older self with his good hand. Mirai Vegeta didn't even bother to block; the blow struck his shoulder, although Vegeta may as well have missed, for all the damage it did.

"What the hell are you?!" he snarled.

"Are you deaf as well as stupid? You heard Kakarotto. We're from the future."

Vegeta's eyes narrowed. "Bullshit. You're imposters."

"It's true, really." Goku chimed in helpfully. He was ignored as the other two saiyajins stared each other down, their gazes locked in fierce, matching glares.

Aware that a long explanation of events would be forthcoming, and fearing that the two Vegeta's would wind up in an all out brawl without intervention, Bulma made a suggestion. "Why doesn't everyone sit down for a bit?" She looked over to where Gohan and Krillen still stood dumbstruck. "I have a feeling you two have a story to tell also."

"Lord Furiza." The gray skinned soldier bowed deeply as he entered the room. At his master's nod, he straightened, and waited for permission to speak.

"Yes, what is it?" The soldier shivered at the raspy, deceptively delicate tone. Furiza had been in one of his moods for days, ever since that saiyajin had stolen the Dragonballs, and he had no desire to end up like the last unfortunate soldier that had delivered the "wrong" message to the lord. Luckily, his news was not so grave.

"My Lord." He gave another quick bow, an extra show of submission, and continued. "The Ginyu force has landed on Namek, sire. They are awaiting your orders."

"Wonderful." The thin violet lips twisted into a dark, pleased smile. "Send them in at once. I have a task for them I believe they'll enjoy."

The soldier, not trusting himself to say any more for fear of offending his monarch, simply nodded and turned on his heel, walking as fast as he dared. As he rounded the corner, he heard from behind him Furiza's low chuckle and a self-satisfied murmur.

"…Soon Vegeta, you'll pay…"

The soldier didn't envy the prince once the Ginyu and Furiza got a hold of him.

To Be Continued…

Notes: And there's chapter three, brand new for you reading pleasure! I always thought that if "good" Vegeta ever met his past self he'd punch him in the face. XD I'll try to keep regular updates, but between work and college courses, my time is limited. I've got over three pages of outlines (and my handwriting's tiny!) for this fic, and more of diagrams and settings. :P There's a sequel planned also, although nothing is totally written in stone. Any ideas or suggestions you have are welcome!

(...And not to pimp my stuff too badly, but I've got a B/V fanvid up on Youtube, for anyone who's interested. Link is in my profile. ^^)