Second in Line (Saiyan OC's)

The second dance: Versus

"Right then, on with the rules; but first of all, let it not be said that I did not give you a chance. I am the challenger here and will not alter that position now..." Saui sighed, "therefore, brother, I again grant you the chance to accord any rules that you see fit. Deathmatch? Tag team? Anything you might wish."

"...But Mom, that's a bit--"

Bana, who had caught the word 'deathmatch', shuddered slightly at its possible consequences and tried to intercede.

"Quiet, child. It's not for you."

Vegeta, meanwhile, had paled as well--way more than before. Deathmatch, against his own sibling? Whoever gets killed, gets it for real and one branch of Planet Vegeta's already scarce royal family would thus be extinguished. There would be no second chances of recovery, no Senzu Beans around. Most significant perhaps would be Bulma's distress--he had noted her chatting quite closely with Saui back on the cruise-liner, and to rob her now of this pleasure ever again was the last he'd wish. Poor little Bana too--or Trunks. Both, he had grown to love in silence.

Tag team? Why, then it's going precisely according to the book! It's exactly what they had trained for... and yet the thoughts about finding himself up against Saui personally still haunted and scared him.

"Well, Vegeta?"

The call snapped him out of his reverie.

"I see, the thought of having to fight your sibling again in front of our children seems appalling to you. If that is the case, you have the chance to retract--"

"Heh. Quit your nonsense, Sis. I suppose I need not remind you that Saiyans never have cowered before enemies--"

"And this was why most of us ended up getting wiped off. If only they had taken the prudence to retreat from Frieza when there's still the chance..."

"Shut up! Are you trying to taunt me? I, this Prince of Saiyans?!"

Saui crossed her arms with indifference.

"Speaking like that in front of the senior Princess makes you what?"

"Dahh! Enough with words--let's just settle this with fists already!"

He lunged forward--but his sister cleanly blocked his thrust fist with one hand. The eyes, so warm and attractive a minute before, had turned up a merciless glare.

"First shot," she warned. "Do that again and I'll consider the spar to have begun with no specific rules; which means, no fouls are to be taken for consideration."

As she said so Saui pressed the balled hand lightly backwards. As his feet touched the hard ground again, Vegeta could not resist a slight wince.

"Very well... if it must be so. Alright then, listen up all of you: I don't want this fight to appear unequal, so screw the tag team or deathmatch bits; I loathe to have to do that second one to a sibling anyway. Instead, we'll each get to fight somebody our own size. The winner will be the one to make his... or her, adversary's body touch the ground ten times regardless of wounds. Fine with that?"

"Time limits?"

"None. There's nothing to measure it with, at that."

"Well, there is still the sun. How about ending this at sunset, at best, lest your woman gets too anxious?"

Vegeta found himself balling up his fist again--but retained enough sense to not bring that to bear this time. Any other woman saying this to him, however, would have been nothing but dust.

"Transformations to be allowed?"

It was asked casually, but sent another chill down the Prince's spine.