Disclaimer: I don't own or profit from DBZ. If I did, I'd write a crap-ton more 'cause I need the cash. Besides who doesn't want to get paid to indulge in their fantasies?

A/N: Wow, guys! All your reviews are so awesome. Thank you so much! But it's confession time. I wasn't really going anywhere with this. Usually when I start a story, I've got it pretty much outlined. Other than some vague ideas about a shower scene ahem I've got nothing. I really was just checking to see if this new writing style works. Thanks for the feedback on that btw! That being said, I'm enlisting your help. I've figured out how ki is going to work in this fic, I think I've got an antagonist, but I'm not sure how he's going to antagonize, and I know I want there to be a library, and maybe a gym. Oh, and a three D printer, 'cause those are awesome! If you guys are feeling up to it, how about you throw me some ideas of what you'd like to see in this fic and I'll see what sticks. At this point plot bunnies would be super helpful! Thanks guys!

Chapter Two

The first time I saw the prince, I wasn't impressed. But neither was I in a position to complain. Being owned by one man or mauled by hundreds. Yeah, that's a no brainer.

After Pockmark thrust me into the kill box I had about five seconds before the force field came down. I'm pretty ingenious, but even I couldn't save my bacon under those circumstances. The force field disbursed, and all those hungry, salivating males rushed over me like a freakin' tidal wave.

I know I screamed. It ricocheted off the metal walls, bounced around on the steel grate floor I was pushed face-first down onto, and it echoed in my fear-deaf ears. This was it. A very bad end, to a very short life, that had seen more pain and sorrow than should be allowed in the most uncaring 'verse in the multiverse. But I had long since come to the conclusion that there was no kind, watchful Kami in the sky looking after his children. It was all just fairytales for the helpless to warm them against their misery.

Hands were everywhere. Tearing at my clothes, pulling at my hair. Wet mouths on my skin, soaking through the heavy, coarse material behind me knees and under my arms. I couldn't fight. The weight of them crushed the air from my lungs. Suffocating before they got to the real badness sounded like a dream.

Something roared. It sounded truly terrible. I could feel it in the reverberation of the steel beneath me. Suddenly, bodies were flung away. The crush acted as a buffer to my senses, but now sight and sound flooded back. The white lights blinded me, forming amoebic spots over my corneas. I blinked, and everything came into sharp focus.

Then I screamed.

Put them back. Put the hungry, grasping bodies back on top of me. Shield me from what was clawing its way towards me. Panicked and terrified straight to my soul, I crabbed backwards, trying to escape the thing stalking me.

A freakin' werewolf.

It was the only way to describe it. It towered over me on unnaturally bent hind legs, its mottled brown and gray fur matted and lousy. Its claws dripped blood on the steel grating. Its toenails clicked loudly as it took a step in my direction.

Its black lips twisted over long canine fangs as it snapped its teeth. A long, black-spotted tongue swiped at its snout. Its fur-tipped ears flipped backwards, flattening along its skull when I inhaled in preparation for another ear shattering shriek.

My break choked off when a man dropped down between us. Even though his back was to me, I could tell he was humanoid, but not human. His skin was an unnatural gold that could only be achieved on a human with a liberal dose of bronzer. His thick, spiked hair was black at the roots, but fading to gold at the tips.

"Back off, Rarrkdar," demanded the new guy. I wasn't relieved. Just because this guy was stepping in, didn't mean my situation had changed. Regardless of who won this round of dick measuring, I was the one who was going to get pissed on.

"Mine," the werewolf growled. Dog tongue must not be suited for human speech, because it sounded like it was speaking around a mouthful of marbles.

"Fuck. What are you even going to do with her? She's not Ruwchack. I'm pretty sure your dick isn't going to fit, even doggy style."

Without my consent or volition, my eyes dropped between the werewolf's legs. Thank all the stars in the 'verse he was wearing a pair of red, ragged pants.

"Eat her." Drool dripped off its snout. If I were a fainter, I'd be out cold.

The man made a sound of disgust as he scratched the back of his neck. "As much as I'm sure you'd enjoy that, it'd be over pretty quick."

"Take. Time." It took another step towards me. I crabbed backward another two feet. I wanted to stand up, but I wasn't sure if my legs would support me.

"Yeah," the guy drawled. "Tell you what, why don't you let me enjoy her for a while. Then I'll give her to you when I'm done."

"Mine. Now."

"Look, Rarr. I like you. I really do. You don't whine or bark all night. You keep to yourself, and for the most part you've stopped pissin' in every corner. So don't make me beat the ever-lovin' crap outta you."

The werewolf laughed. Or I think it did. It made this god-awful grunting, yipping sound.

"Right," the guy drawled, before charging the werewolf. I didn't bother to watch. I figured this would be a fucking fantastic moment to hide. Where, was a completely different problem.

I scrambled to my feet, and whirled around, only to fall straight into some other guy's arms. He quickly shoved me away, hands up to ward me off like I had some sort of disease or something. I stumbled back, and frantically glanced around. In front, I was buttoned in by the ring of men watching the fight, and behind, I could hear grunting and growling and the thud of flesh on flesh. I hunched over, making myself small as possible to worm my way between the legs of the crowd. I nearly got a foot in my face for my trouble, and a strong shove back into the ring. It was clear I wasn't going any damn place.

The crowd exploded into a loud cheer. I glanced over my shoulder to see the werewolf limp off with a whimper. The ass, who'd pushed me off like I was diseased, suddenly lunged forward and grabbed me by the arm.

"Here she is Ash. I made sure she didn't get away."

I glared at him. What an ass-kissing jerk.

Ash turned in my direction. He was startlingly handsome. A long scar that slashed across his face from his temple to his chin only marginally marred his warm, welcoming smile. The tension in my muscles relaxed. This guy didn't look so bad. He was a definite improvement over the Freddy Kruger conception scene that I was about to star in, nor was he fangy, so I wasn't likely to end up his chew toy of choice. Then I remembered the matter of his mum's head front and center in his freezer. Matricide was such a turn off.

Ash grinned. It made him even handsomer. There was natural warmth to his face that was extremely disconcerting.

"Thanks, Yarl." Ash said as he came forward to take my arm.

Yeah. Thanks, Yarl. Asshole.

Because it's good form, I struggled. I mean. What else was I going to do? The guy just sent an eight-foot werewolf scampering off with its tail between its legs. I was pretty sure my measly strength wasn't a deterrent.

As expected, Ash ignored my pathetic attempts to get away. Instead he pulled me over to a bolted steel table and plopped my booty right on top. With one hand still grasping my upper arm, he turned back to the crowd, a huge grin spread over his face.

"Yah'll wanna see her naked?" he shouted like he was a freakin' MC at a monster truck rally. Yeah, I'd been to one of those before the decolonization of earth. I screamed like a preteen at a boy band concert when the huge, green 4x4 with tires four times my height steamrolled a '69 Impala with a Detroit steel chassis, crumpling it like tissue paper. It wasn't my finest moment.

The crowd of men went wild.

"You wanna see me fuck her right here?" Ash shouted again. The crowd went even wilder.

I went as cold as ice. I struggled harder. My vision blurred and I realized I was crying.

I fought. I kicked. I bit. I screamed. None of it stopped him from pushing me down onto the table. The cheers of the crowd were deafening. Ash's hands were almost gentle on the swells of my breasts and hips. He pried my legs apart and I could feel his erection tight against my sex.

I slapped him hard, and he just looked down at me with that warm smile.

Suddenly, the crowd went eerily silent. Ash froze. It reminded me of one of those scenes in movies where the protagonists realize they are being hunted because even the insects stop chirping.

"The prince wants her." A harsh, uncompromising voice ground out from behind me.

"What?" Ash sounded confused.

What? I echoed, just as confused.

"You heard me."

"But." Ash paused. "The prince never wants anyone."

I tilted my head back, so it hung off the edge of the table, and examined the two newcomers who stood atop another table a few feet away. They must have dropped straight down from one of the upper floors and landed right on the table. Pretty impressive as far as I was concerned. My ankles hurt if I hopped two feet.

From my upside down angle they seemed like the tallest men I'd ever seen. There was a bald-headed guy with a drooping 'stache that hid his upper lip. Although I couldn't see his mouth, I could tell he was frowning. He definitely gave off a grumpy vibe. The arms of his jumpsuit were ripped off at the shoulders, and his impressive biceps bulged as he crossed his arms over his barrel chest.

The second guy had hair that reached his ass. I kid you not, his ass. What the fuck? It was thick, shiny, and bouncy. I absolutely was not jealous, because one, I was in a really bad situation and I needed to keep my head in the game, and two, it was petty and wrong, not to mention against nature, to be jealous of a guy's hair. But dammit, I was jealous.

The guy with not-gorgeous hair had shrugged off the top half of his jumpsuit, tying the sleeves around his waist like a belt. And wow. Suddenly I didn't care about his hair, because he had the most lickable abs I'd ever seen in my life. They were round and taut, covered with an unmarred expanse of smooth, bronze skin with distinct muscle delineations that I wanted to tongue. The jumpsuit hung low on his hips revealing his v-cut; that shadowed cleft on a man's body between their hipbone and lower belly. I'm pretty sure it is the most perfect spot on the male anatomy.

These two were admittedly pretty badass looking. Which begged the question, if they were just lackeys, how badass was the prince? More importantly, was he sex-on-a-stick like hair guy or stern and uninviting like Mr. 'stache?

My thoughts must have been blatantly obvious, because when my eyes wandered back up to hair guy's face, he flashed me a grin with a full helping of very white teeth, and Kami help me, dimples. Fuck! The blood must be rushing to my head, because I was not having lustful thoughts at the worst possible time. It must be the adrenaline.

The handsome one's grin grew and he rocked on the balls of his toes. I silently nicknamed him happy-pants. Happy-pants and Grumpy-pants, the two dwarves. I eyed their height. Well, maybe not dwarves. Yeah, the endorphins swimming in my blood must be making me hysterical.

"He wants her," Happy-pants sing-songed. Huh. Was he on something? And where could I get some? I was thinking I was going to need quite a bit of narcotic induced euphoria to make it through what was about to be the most hellish experience of my soon to be short life.

"I fought for her."

Arms still crossed, Grumpy-pants managed an insolent shrug that said he could give a good goddamn about Ash's victory.

Happy-pants rolled his eyes, before offering, "He'll compensate your loss."

"I don't want compensation. I want her," Ash ground out.

"Yeah, well I want thirty-seven virgins titty dancing in my lap," Grumpy-pants growled. "Don't mean I get it."

Ash's hands tightened on my upper arms, and I thought briefly that he wasn't going to let me go. What would happen if he challenged the hierarchy? Grumpy-pants must have saw Ash's indecision, because he dropped his arms, his hands tightening into fists the size of sledgehammers.

Ash's warm smile reappeared, but there was an edge to it. He hauled himself off me with a little bounce and held up his hands.

"Sure, guys. Whatever you say. What the prince wants, the prince gets. Right?"

"You better fuckin' believe it, you fuckin' freak." Gees. Grumpy-pants really was grumpy. But I concurred. There was something freakish about Ash. No one in prison should grin that much.

I gingerly levered myself up into a sitting position with a groan. My entire body ached. I'd been roughed up pretty badly in the last twenty minutes. The sick wave that rolled over me was a reminder that it wasn't over yet.

There was a rush of air and then Happy-pants was at my side. At a distance, I thought his eyes were black, but up close I could see that they were a warm chocolate brown. The corners of his mouth twitched upwards as he placed a gentle, but firm hand at the small of my back, urging me off the table.

"Don't fight us."

I didn't reply. There was no fight left in me. Besides, I couldn't fight my way out of this situation. I needed to strategize.

My knees buckled when I stood. Happy-pants caught me under the elbow. I expected him to haul me up against him to cop a feel, but he was unusually respectful. I didn't know whether to be comforted or concerned about this turn of events.

Once I got my feet under me, the men bracketed me like bookends. It was pretty clear that I wasn't going anywhere, but where they wanted me. As we moved towards the staircase, the crowd parted like the Red freakin' Sea. The men's faces reflected disappointment, but also a glimmer of sick curiosity. I had gone from the night's entertainment to locker room titillation. Everyone wanted to know what it was about me that caught the prince's attention. They weren't the only ones.

At the foot of the stairs I glanced up, swaying at the sheer height of the tower. More faces peered down at us, the men who hadn't bothered to join the crowd on the main floor.

"How far?" I asked, my voice insubstantial.

"We're at the top," Happy-pants answered. "Thirty-third floor."

"Oh." My voice sounded even weaker. That was a crap-load of stairs.

"You gonna make it?" His hand tightened around my elbow. "Should I carry you?"

I jerked my arm away. "I'll make it," I snapped, my backbone firmly in place. There was no way I was going to let him carry me. I'd crawl up the damn stairs if I had too.

He chuckled, but I ignored him as I hauled my ass forward.

We walked in silence for about ten floors. This was complete torture for all of us. It was torture for me, because Kami, I needed to invent a Stairmaster and start using it regularly. I thought I was in fairly good shape. I eat well, I'm pretty active, and I've got an ass that won't quit, but damn. I really might be crawling by the time we get to the top.

It was torture for Happy-pants because I'm pretty sure he's the kind of guy who hates silence. The longer we were quiet the more he vibrated. Straight, vibrated. Like he was containing an overload of energy just below all that lickable skin.

It was torture for Grumpy-pants because I'm pretty sure he knew that Happy-pants was on the verge of implosion. I ascertained that for Grumpy-pants, hell was the other guy running his mouth.

"So thirty-seven virgins?"

Grumpy-pants groaned.

"Why not forty-seven? Or seventy-seven?"

"Shut up," Grumpy-pants snapped.

"No. I mean, I'm really curious. Why thirty-seven?"

"Shut. The fuck. Up."

"Can you even fit thirty-seven virgins in your lap? Granted, it's a pretty big lap, but thirty-seven is a lot of virgin booty." He paused, cocking his head to think. "Unless they're Fritterlings. Fritterlings are pretty tiny. Do you like Fritterling booty?"

"How the fuck is it, that of the three surviving Saiyans in all the 'verse, you're one of them?"

Happy-pants ignored that dig with a chirpy little smile and a bounce in his step. "What would you even do with thirty-seven virgins? Do you have to give them back at the end of the night or can you keep them until you devirginize them all? Is there like a ten day rental fee?"

I snorted. I couldn't help it. This guy was ridiculous. He flashed me a playful grin and that's when it occurred to me that his antics weren't for his friend's benefit, they were for mine. He was trying to…comfort me? Reassure me?

I jerked away from him, wiping the small grin off my face. I didn't want to be comforted or reassured. I wanted to go home. I wanted to be back on Oasis my schooner class spaceship. She was quick, agile enough to dodge most predator sweeps, but with a power core that could be charged for deep-space jumps that kept me in subspace long enough to conduct my business undetected.

I didn't want to be here with werewolves, grinning psychopaths and despotic princes. I wanted to be safe, and ten years of being on my own, told me that total isolation was the only way to be truly safe.

Happy-pants didn't say another word, for which Grumpy-pants and I were thankful. By the time we hit the thirty-third floor my thighs were jelly and I was pretty sure my lungs had exploded. I didn't get to rest, because Happy-pant's hand at the small of my back urged me forward. Stupidly, I tucked my hair behind my ears, and wiped my fingers beneath my eyes, trying to straighten my appearance as they led me to the prince's cell.

As we had climbed, I noticed that around the twenty-fourth floor the occupied cells dwindled. By the twenty-seventh they were empty. There was quite a buffer of space between the prince and everyone else. I wasn't sure if this was good or bad or if it even mattered.

The cell we entered was pretty typical. It didn't have a door or dividing walls. It was just a squared-off, fairly decent sized room. There were two bunk beds, but only one looked used. To the side of the room was a smattering of work out equipment and a single table covered with loose papers. There wasn't a sink or a toilet, but there was a ledge along the back that formed a very hard looking bench seat. Old-fashioned books were piled on the ledge and around the room. I hadn't seen a bound book since Earth. Most everything was on electronic files.

My escorts brought me to a stop in the center of the room. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust. At first I thought we were alone, then I noticed a subtle sensation against my skin, an awareness of being watched. A man sat with predatory stillness amongst the haphazard piles. He had one knee cocked up, resting his arm as he read. Although I felt the awareness of his scrutiny, he didn't glance away from the book. The only sound, besides my harsh pants, was the whispering caress of pages being turned.

I didn't dare speak. I didn't think I could speak. This was the prince. I wasn't sure what I expected, but it wasn't this….this unnatural stillness.

After an eternity, the man closed his book, stood, and slowly glided towards me with all the grace of a stalking panther. He wore his red jumpsuit with pristine fastidiousness. There were no rips or tears. The cuffs closed tightly around his wrists, and the collar was magnetically sealed all the way to his throat. His black hair was cut close to his skull, just long enough to form sleek spikes that didn't look gelled. He had high cheekbones, a broad brow and a narrow nose. His mouth was the only thing soft about him. Much to his disgust, I'm sure, his lower lip was dark pink and lush looking.

I was shocked by how much smaller he was than his men. He was only an inch or two taller than I and in heels I would tower over him. This was the prince? The One everyone feared. How was it possible?

He stopped only inches from me, deeply and contentiously in my personal space. He stood as if he had every right to be there. As if everything I wasbelonged to him, including my space. And I supposed, it did. I certainly didn't want to belong to Ash or the werewolf. But as I stared into this stranger's eyes, I thought maybe the devil I knew, rather than the one I didn't, might be safer.

As I stared, I finally understood why he was so feared. His black eyes were cold and dark. Dead. There was no hint heat or hunger. Only tepid interest. I was a curiosity to him, no more. It should have relieved me, but it only made my tension increase. If I wasn't to be his new cellmate, then why was I there?

He lifted his hand, and I instinctively flinched away. His expression didn't change, and he didn't draw back. He captured a strand of my hair between his fingers, rubbing as if to test its texture.

"Never seen hair that shade before," Happy-pants purred.

"It's the same shade as the Vegeta-sai royal standard," Grumpy-pants commented.

Of course, my hair. It was forever landing me in hot water. You'd think I would have shaved it off by now, but no. Vanity is forever my downfall.

The Prince didn't comment. His dark eyes roved over my face, taking in every curve of perfection and cataloging every flaw. His hand curled around my jaw, the pad of his thumb resting in the middle of my lower lip. His fingertips pressed against my pulse, feeling the rushing of blood in my veins.

He rubbed his thumb over my lip, the pressure increasing with every pass. Unable to resist my mouth fell open and his calloused thumb glided over the edge of my teeth. He tasted like salt, ink, and man. I felt like a horse at auction.

"Do we keep her or throw her back?" His fingertips were still resting against my throat, so I know he felt my pulse jump at Grumpy-pant's words.

The few minutes I spent in CCP had taught me my place in the hierarchy. I was a big girl and I had no delusions about what waited for me downstairs.

He dragged his thumb over the point of my chin and down the long line of my neck, leaving a wet trail in its wake. When his hand fully encircled my throat, he tugged me incrementally closer, staring deep into my eyes.

"She stays," he growled. He released me with a tiny shove, and I stumbled back. He returned to his seat, not sparing me a second glance as he returned to his book. From my peripherals I saw my two escorts exchange a glance over my head. I wondered what it meant.