Not subbed yet that I know of (I'll put in a link when I find it subbed, okay?) But yeah. Spoilers.
EDIT: Well, the first half is subbed, anyway. Can be watched subbed here. Hopefully the second half too soon!
And wow, I really couldn't hang on to my "write/post any fic" card, could I? *laughs*
I really wanted more Vegeta vs. Zebra vs. Zoro because EPIC. But I was stuck trying to plot out a fight scene (especially since I'm so behind on OP and it's been so long since I watched DBZ. >.< I'm sorry guys! I don't know your move sets anymore!) So instead I ended up going to schmoopy-town because that is were I live, okay! :P Even grump-face Vegeta must visit eventually!
Title: Waiting Up
Characters: Vegeta, Zebra, Zoro, Sanji, Komatsu, Trunks
Summary: It's well after dark by the time the last three challengers make it back, not expecting to find anything left of the tournament.
It was well after dark by the time they stumbled back to the remains of the stadium. They had finished trying to beat the hell out of each other, at least for the moment. Vegeta didn’t even consider it a truce. They had just somehow ended up all going in the same direction at about the same pace.
The prize was long gone, of course, but Vegeta didn’t care. Everyone would probably be asleep by now, but he didn’t care about that either. He was just looking for something to replenish his strength before he flew off this island.
He didn’t expect anyone to still be up when they arrived, but as soon as they were withing sight of the building the nearest doors burst open, spilling warm light out towards them.
“Zebra-san!” A small figure came rushing out, pushing a cart several times his size piled with food. The rich smell of grilled meat suddenly reached out and rolled over Vegeta’s senses, more welcoming than the unexpected light.
“It’s about time you showed up, Zoro.” The silhouette of the second man who stepped out in the light was tall and thin, carrying an oversized platter in one hand with his other braced carelessly on one jutting hip.
Well, if his most recent opponents had people who wanted to stay awake for them, that was their business. Vegeta personally didn’t expect anyone to greet him.
Trunks ducked between the other two and came charging up to meet him. Vegeta didn’t miss the slight stutter-step that was no doubt his son taking in the fact that he was streaked with dirt and blood and stewing in left-over aggression after his fight, but it didn’t stop Trunks from jumping up and hugging him around the waist.
“You won, right?”
Vegeta let out a low grunt in response. He had to sit down. Not because he was so drained he was ready to collapse in the dirt, but because Trunks was hanging on him.
When that oversized, loud bastard followed suit, it was with an impact that sent shockwaves through the ground. That knocked the sword-swinging bastard on his ass, though he almost made it look like he’d meant to do that.
Before the rich smells wafting under his nose could drag Vegeta back to his feet, food was actually delivered to him for once.
“Here you go.” The platter the little chef was holding out for him was piled so high with meat that Vegeta could see the muscles in his skinny arms flex with the weight. When he accepted the platter he could appreciate the sheer quantity of food being offered. “I wanted to make sure everyone got a share, so please enjo-uwa!”
This last startled exclamation was because Zebra had grabbed him by his collar and hauled him back away from Vegeta.
“Don’t waste your cooking on that bastard.”
“It’s not going to waste!”
He was right about that much. Vegeta wasn’t letting it go to waste. He took one bite, caught Trunks watching him, and swallowed hurriedly so he could answer that look with a rough, “Well?”
Trunks understood that to mean, ‘Tell me about your day,’ and started talking all about everything that had happened while Vegeta was busy fighting. He wanted to tell Vegeta all about the new people he’d met, who were strong, but interesting, but some of them were really weird. And there had been a lot of really good food and he’d had a lot of fun, but then there was this floating devil-fish-thing with tentacles.
“And then it tried to eat us, but we didn’t let it! Except then it drained our energy and got away. . .”
Vegeta paused his meal to lay one hand on Trunks’s head, recognizing that sulky, guilty tone as he had to admit the defeat. It wasn’t the time to say it, but he could tell Trunks was still getting stronger. That was a source of parental pride, even if Trunks was disappointed with himself that he hadn’t won today.
“If you hadn’t been busy you would have beat it up in a minute, right?”
“Of course.” Pride in his son was only matched by pride in himself.
Who knew if his sparring partners would have helped. Vegeta spared them a glance.
Zebra was eating as fast as he could cram food in his oversized mouth one-handed, jealously holding the smaller chef on his lap with his other arm. The kid had no power that Vegeta could sense, but he wasn’t intimidated at all. He kept boldly teasing Zebra, confident in his immunity.
To the other side, the taller chef actually had one foot braced on Zoro’s head to keep it down, lecturing him about something along the lines of, “That is not how you ask for seconds.” Zoro was shaking with anger, but he didn’t actually go for his swords. The two of them just traded insults with an air of broken-in familiarity.
Vegeta could predict that they would have turned on any larger threat in tandem with him. Both of them had someone to come back to. Vegeta understood motivation almost as well as he understood the violence that came out of it.
Trunks leaned into his side, worn out from staying up so late waiting, and Vegeta didn’t move. He could afford to stay a little longer before flying off, anyway.
And maybe once they had all finished eating the others would be ready for round two.