The Saiyajin Pet

Chapter 1: Contract for an Exotic

D's eyes narrowed in scrutiny. "Something intelligent... that will take instructions?"

"Yes... In a manner of speaking," Vegeta replied in a guarded manner. He felt as though the man was reading him, peering into his innermost spirit.

The manager's face darkened with satisfaction, his fingers lacing together in front of his face to hide the broadening, secretive smile.

"I believe I have the perfect companion animal for you."

The count turned briskly, then led Vegeta through a side door and down a dimly lit hallway lined with other closed doors, all carved and meticulously decorated. He walked with leisurely, measured steps, giving Vegeta time to ponder his surroundings. This place was like no pet shop he'd ever seen. The air was thick and sweet– no offending odors at all– and the raucous noise of animals was strangely lacking. He began to wonder if someone was playing a bad joke on him. But then, no one else knew he was there. He had recently overheard about this place from another wealthy business associate who fancied exotic pets– had pretended not to hear him discussing his latest purchase with a friend.

The count suddenly stopped in front of a narrow door, revealed to be a small linen closet, and pulled out a black silk scarf.

"Here, sir, you must wear this."

"What? What the hell for?"

"As a potential buyer for this creature, you must cover your neck when you see him. If you decide to take him home, I will explain the need for this precaution more thoroughly."

"Absolutely not! I'll look like a damn fairy with that on."

The count only grinned and moved to tie the scarf around his neck.

"It is necessary for viewing of the animal. You can tuck the ends inside your shirt, if that will make you feel more comfortable."

Vegeta grabbed the scarf away from him. Hrrn... Fucking fine! He's the only person here and I guess there's no harm in looking like a fairy in front of one, Vegeta thought, his hate for the count growing exponentially. Who does this guy think he is? How pretentious, calling himself a count– he's Chinese! They don't even have the title of count there. And trying to sound mysterious with that "D," as though he's too cool to give his real name, what a phony! Mocking me with that smile and those affected, impeccable manners; probably gets a kick out of screwing with Westerners. I ought to walk out of here right now, I–

"Here we are."

Vegeta barely realized they'd resumed walking. The count stopped them in front of a thick mahogany door at the very end of the hallway, opened it a crack and looked back at him coyly.

"Please wait here a moment while I prepare the creature." And with that D slipped into the room leaving Vegeta standing outside, seething and impatient again as his imagination and rage ran away with him, imagining that beyond that door were several dozen rough-looking guys with guns and clubs waiting to jump him.

After several minutes, the door opened wide and Count D, standing to the side, greeted him with a welcoming smile, motioning graciously for him to enter. The once dark room was dimly lit with orange-shaded lamps, and by this glowing light Vegeta took in his first glimpse of the waiting creature. Vegeta's jaw dropped, his scowl transforming into a look of shock and disbelief.

Against the opposite wall, lounging casually upon a small, cushioned dais, was the creature– or more appropriately, person.

Upon the dais sat a huge being that could have almost passed for human. Broad-shouldered and wide-chested, powerful muscles graced his form, and despite his size every small movement spoke of grace and control. A spiky mane of shining black hair fell over his shoulders and extended halfway down his back, shading piercing golden eyes that bored holes into his visitor. He wore only a pair of boots and loose yellow pants in the style of traditional Chinese fighting gear. A short reddish pelt covered his arms and back, leaving the face, neck, hands, pectorals, and abdominals bare, revealing the smooth fair skin underneath. Most remarkable, perhaps, was the long, reddish tail that snaked slowly through the air behind him. A smirk of supreme confidence never left his features; however, he studied Vegeta with great interest.