Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction / Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ A Light in the Darkness ❯ Parental Consent ( Chapter 5 )

 

A Light in the Darkness - part 5: Parental Consent
by Mia Skywalker & Wataruo

PAIRING: Bulma/Vegeta (this part)
RATING: G. Well, they kiss a couple of times, that's it.
WARNINGS: Not unless you think I should warn you about the appearance of Mrs. Briefs.... ;-)
DISCLAIMER: Neither of us owns any of the DBZ characters or anything about DBZ, but we both wish we owned the Saiyans. All of them. At least all of the ones with hair. These characters are owned by Toei, Viz, Akira Toriyama, and FUNimation. We do own what we've written here, and our specific storyline, just not Dragonball itself. We make no money off of any of these guys, nor off this fic. We just have fun writing it.
SUMMARY: Parental consent? Hmm....
NOTES: No more lemon in this one, and not for a while.

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Bulma stirred, as she felt the silence deepen, becoming almost deafening in its absolute intensity. She felt she had to say something, before she lost her nerve, or before the moment passed for her to say it. She shifted herself on him, so she was looking into his face.

 

"Vegeta, I...." She trailed off, blinking, suddenly wondering exactly what it was that she wanted to say, what she wanted to ask. She was no longer sure, so she simply smiled sadly at him, and cupped his cheek softly in one hand. "I'm still hungry, Vegeta, and I want that cup of coffee I didn't get earlier. Can we go downstairs and get something to eat?"

 

Vegeta's stomach growled at the mention of food. "I forgot you didn't get a chance to eat." He leaned over to kiss her briefly and released her. "Although I think a shower might be in order first. Care to join me?" he asked as he sat up and swung his legs out of bed.

 

This time Bulma's stomach growled, and she sighed wistfully. "I just took one." She realized that statement was irrelevant, as she was now sweaty again. She could also smell Vegeta's scent on her, and although it wasn't an unpleasant one, she instinctively didn't want her parents to know about him just yet. She looked around the room, and then a realization slowly dawned on her as certain memories came crowding back to her.

 

"Vegeta?" she asked, looking up at him with a panic-stricken expression. "Where are my clothes?"

 

Vegeta's eyebrows pulled together as he thought about it. "I think I left them in the kitchen." He smirked. "Do you want me to go and get them for you before anyone else gets up?"

 

"Please?" she asked him, in a quiet, almost desperate voice. "If anyone ever found out, they'd...." She trailed off, staring at him, realizing the implied insult in her words, and wanting to take it back and still be honest with him. "Please, Vegeta. I can't... I can't let them think that. Not yet...."

 

"I doubt your parents would even notice," Vegeta said as he slipped back into his bodysuit. "They never to seem to notice when you are even around. Although how they could not notice is beyond me." Vegeta pulled his boots on and headed to the door, pausing to look back at her. "Stay here. I'll be right back," he ordered as he slipped out into the hallway.

 

Bulma stared at the door, stricken with sudden pain. She knew he was right - her parents hardly seemed aware of her existence - but the fact that he called attention to it hurt past bearing. If no one noticed how her parents treated her, then she could pretend that maybe - just maybe - they actually cared for her. But if someone like Vegeta, who cared little beyond what affected him directly, was able to see it so easily... then it made the pain strike closer to home. She sat, unmoving and unseeing, as she continued to stare at the door, feeling only a great numbing pain.

 

When Vegeta came back into the room a few moments later, Bulma was still staring at the door with an expression that he couldn't immediately place. Then he realized that something was bothering her. He sank down on the floor in front of her and cupped her face with his palms.

 

"What is wrong?" he asked as he gazed into her face. She looked so... hurt, that he wanted to pull her to him and take away her pain. "Woman?" he prompted when she didn't answer him right away. "What is the matter?"

 

Her face shook. "They don't... they don't care about me," she whispered, pain threaded through her voice. "They never have. You could see it. Someone who cares for no one but himself can see it." Tears welled up in her eyes and she closed them, causing the tears to spill down her cheeks. "I guess it's because there's no reason for anyone to love me. Even Yamcha doesn't love me...."

 

He pulled her to his chest and said softly, "I am sure they care about you. They are just...." He paused trying to find the word he wanted without being too harsh. "...oblivious." He found himself jealous at the mention of Yamcha. She made love to him but was still thinking of another male. That would change, he decided. Bulma would be his.

 

"You should not doubt yourself," he whispered. "You are the strongest person I know."

 

"Strong?" she asked in surprise. "I'm not strong. I don't fight like you and Goku do. I'm just me. Oh, Vegeta!" she wailed, throwing her arms around his neck. She knew he didn't love her, not really, but for a while she could pretend that maybe he did, that maybe someone cared about her, at least a little. As long as he kept his arms around her, she could pretend....

 

"You don't have to fight to be strong, woman." He ran his palms down her back in an effort to soothe her. "And you are battle smart. You may not have actual fighting capabilities but you are a strategist. I can see that. Why can't you?"

 

Bulma sniffled against his shoulder, allowing him to comfort her. She didn't really believe him, but it didn't matter all that much. The fact that he was even trying to soothe her was something; it meant he had to care about her, at least a little bit. That was oddly comforting to her. She put her arms around his neck, not caring that she was still nude and that she was being immodest. He had already done anything he was going to do; playing the modesty game at this point would be pointless.

 

After a little while she pulled back from him and wiped her cheeks with the backs of her hands. "Vegeta?" She smiled weakly. "I guess I do need to get cleaned up. I'll bet I look like a mess."

 

Vegeta brushed her hair away from her face and looked her over. The warrior found himself liking how her hair was mussed. Her face and body were still flushed from their lovemaking. And although her eyes were slightly swollen from crying, Vegeta still found her beautiful.

 

"You look fine to me," he said quietly. It was a little understatement on his part; to him she always looked stunning. He wondered what had taken him so long to realize it as he continued his silent contemplation.

 

Bulma's eyes widened in surprise. Her mother had once told her that if a man loves you, he would always think you look wonderful, even when you were covered in mud and grime. Bulma had thought her mother was crazy at the time, but her mother had laughed and told her that she would see... when it was time. But then Chi-Chi had told her once that some men would lie and tell you that you look fine, when they can't really tell, just because they don't want to deal with it. So Bulma didn't know why Vegeta was saying that. Was it because he truly meant it, or was he just doing it to shut her up? She couldn't imagine him meaning it, but then, if he wanted her to shut up, he would be more likely to simply tell her to shut up. Vegeta had never much cared if he was 'nice' to anyone or not. She was entirely confused by him.

 

She blushed slightly, still feeling like she needed a shower. She was also ravenously hungry. Yet she didn't want to go downstairs and encounter her parents, not looking the way she did. Despite what Vegeta said, she felt like she was just advertising what they had just done if she didn't take a shower first.

 

"Vegeta?" she asked him hesitantly. "Would you... could you get me something to eat while I take a shower... please?"

 

Vegeta grinned at her. "You are going to have to be very nice to me later, woman," he informed her as he stood. Vegeta had no idea why he was so inclined to do whatever she wanted him to or why he wasn't even questioning it. "See you downstairs." He bent his head to press a soft kiss to her mouth and strode from the room.

 

She sat on the bed in confusion long after he had left the room, wondering what he had meant by that. From the way he had said it she was guessing that there were hidden meanings, but she wasn't sure what they were. Did he mean he wanted more of what they had already done? Did that mean he hadn't gotten whatever satisfaction he had wanted out of it, and was done with her? Or did he mean that she would have to be nice to him in some other way, like modifying the gravity room for him in some manner?

 

She knew she often balked when he made requests - no, more like demands - that she change or add or fix something for him, especially since he always wanted it done now, and he generally accompanied his demands with threats. But he hadn't threatened or demanded anything of her all morning, and it was confusing. Well... except for earlier, in the kitchen. Maybe he just expected that since he had given her such pleasure, that she owed him, and shouldn't argue if he wanted something from her. And she didn't know that she was inclined to disagree with that at the moment.

 

She finally stood up and dressed quickly, then glanced in the hallway to make certain no one was around. When she saw no sign of her parents, she snuck quickly to her own room and took a shower, trying to make herself look presentable. Vegeta was downstairs fixing breakfast for her - although what sort of disaster that might end up being she was afraid to consider - and she didn't feel right making him wait. It had already been quite a while, and if she knew her impatient Saiyan, he was probably on the verge of destroying something. She brushed her hair without drying it and went to go downstairs.

 

Vegeta had been downstairs for only five minutes when he started to get impatient. What was taking her so long? He paced the kitchen several times wondering if she had simply gone out the window and climbed down the trellis. He had seen her doing that often enough, although he expected it was something she didn't want him knowing. But then he dismissed the idea as silly. She had more courage than that.

 

He made himself walk over to the fridge to find something to make her for breakfast. Even though he had managed to feed himself in the past, he didn't actually cook anything, so he decided to make sandwiches. Even Kakarotto couldn't screw up making something so simple, he thought, pleased with himself.

 

He spread the makings on the table and began making himself something, not taking into account that Bulma ate considerably less than he did. He was in the processing of making the biggest sandwich Bulma had ever seen as she came into the kitchen.

 

Bulma stared at the monstrosity that Vegeta was putting together. "Vegeta?" she asked him, astounded. "What is that?"

 

"Breakfast, what do you think it is?" he asked, continuing to add vegetables to it. Tomatoes, lettuce, beans sprouts, peppers. Vegeta added just about everything he had put on the counter. "Did I forget something?" he asked, looking up at her.

 

Bulma stared at the monstrosity for several more seconds before she started to giggle. "Maybe the kitchen sink?" At his blank expression, her giggles got stronger. "I'm sorry, Vegeta. I can't eat that! I could maybe eat a tenth of it before I was so stuffed I would burst!" She smiled at him, suddenly happy to be there with him. "Tell you what. Why don't I use some of the ingredients in it and make each of us an omelet, and you can eat the rest of the sandwich yourself?"

 

Vegeta shrugged. "Help yourself." He gestured to his creation. When he really thought about it, he realized that even though the behemoth would satisfy him, it would take his human female at least four days to eat it. Vegeta grinned suddenly at the thought and started to chuckle. He watched Bulma take some of the ingredients off of the sandwich and make her way to the stove.

 

Vegeta was mesmerized by the sway of her hips as she walked, and found himself watching her intently as he chewed on his meal, not even aware that he wasn't wolfing down his food as he usually did. He was actually eating slowly enough that it somehow seemed that he had suddenly gained manners.

 

Bulma didn't know how to cook very many things, but she did know how to make an omelet. It was something she could do fairly well, in fact. She threw in some peppers and tomatoes into the egg batter, and then flipped it over once the egg had cooked on one side, and rolled the omelet. Once she had two omelets ready, she brought them to the table.

 

She noticed that Vegeta had hardly eaten much of his sandwich, something surprising for him. Normally he would have inhaled it in half a minute. She looked at him in concern. "Vegeta? Aren't you hungry? Are you not feeling well?"

 

"I feel fine," Vegeta said, watching her sit down across from him. "Should there be something wrong?"

 

Bulma blinked. "No, you just...." She wasn't sure what she meant to say. "You just haven't finished eating. Usually you would have eaten the entire thing by now. Is there something on your mind? Is something bothering you?" She wondered if he was already regretting what had happened this morning, and her stomach clenched. She had no idea why it was so important to her, but she hoped he wouldn't say that he wished they hadn't slept together.

 

"There is something on my mind," Vegeta agreed. "You."

 

It was true, the warrior realized. It was all he could think about at the moment. The feel of her body against his, her scent, the way she had tasted this morning. His groin tightened at the mental image of her writhing underneath him, and he forced himself to calm down before he ravished her in the kitchen.

 

Bulma stared at him, not certain what he meant. The look in his eyes said that he desired her again, that he wanted her. But her insecurity said that it couldn't possibly be true. Why would he want her? He was a prince, a warrior. She was a nobody. He had told her she was beautiful, but... if she was beautiful, then why hadn't other men ever wanted her? Why hadn't Yamcha ever wanted her?

 

Her nervousness grew as the silence lengthened, and as she continued to misinterpret his words. She shifted uncomfortably. "Me? But... have I done something wrong?" she asked in bewilderment.

 

"No," he said softly. "You did everything right." He stared at her for several long moments, desperately wanting to feel her skin against his, then stood up abruptly. Vegeta made his way to the other side of the table where Bulma sat and looked down at her, indecisive as to what to do about this newfound need, then leaned down and ravished her mouth with a ferocity that surprised both of them.

 

Bulma was so surprised at his sudden kiss that she wasn't entirely sure what to do, but she found herself responding before she realized it. Her eyes closed automatically and her arms snaked around his neck as she leaned into his embrace. Her entire universe suddenly seemed focused on Vegeta, or more specifically, Vegeta's mouth against hers. She felt him scoop her up into his arms, but only in a vague sort of way, not really impinging on her awareness. Then a voice broke into her trance, one that didn't belong anywhere in the universe, one that belonged outside of it, in a completely different time and place.

 

"Good morning, Bulma-chan, Vegeta-chan. Have you had breakfast already?" Mrs. Briefs glanced briefly at the uneaten omelets on their plates. "What a shame to waste Bulma's excellent omelets that way! Why don't the two of you eat your breakfast first, before you go play?"

 

Vegeta tensed immediately when he heard Bulma's mother's voice behind them. He cursed himself for his lack of attention, but he did not release Bulma. He knew if he let her go, she would bolt. He turned his head and smiled at Bulma's mother. "I would rather play first," he told her. "But maybe not in the kitchen." He could feel Bulma shaking in his arms, and he had no idea what she was thinking. ::Hush,:: he thought to her. ::It is all right::

 

Bulma was mortified. Her mother had walked in on her kissing someone! Worse, she had walked in on her in a rather intimate position, and worst yet, it was with Vegeta! She couldn't even imagine what her mother must think. Vegeta was a killer, a murderer, a destroyer of worlds.... And Bulma had constantly reiterated to her parents how much she hated him and wished he wasn't staying with them. Her mother must think she was a complete idiot.

 

"Now, now!" Mrs. Briefs admonished. "You know how much Bulma hates to cook. Don't go wasting her efforts like that. If she went through the effort of cooking for you, then you should appreciate it. And her omelets really are quite excellent!"

 

Bulma's mother steered Vegeta back to the table, and then smiled at the two of them. The underlying steel in Mrs. Briefs' tone surprised Vegeta, and it occurred to him that this might be where Bulma had inherited her strength.

 

"If you insist." He smirked at Bulma. "Can't waste this, can we?" He reached over and tasted a portion of the omelets and was surprised at how good it actually was. "You are right. These are good." He looked over at Bulma, to see that she was still pale. "Are you all right?" he asked.

 

"I'm fine," she whispered faintly. It occurred to her that her mother hadn't seemed surprised to find her in Vegeta's arms. She hadn't shown any signs of being angry or upset. Oblivious as her parents usually were, Bulma expected *some* sort of reaction from them! This was as though... it was as though her mother had expected this.

 

Bulma picked at the omelet, eating it slowly. Why would her mother have expected it, since Bulma had always hated Vegeta? Bulma thought back on the past several months, trying to work her way through it. Had she hated Vegeta? She had been afraid of him at first, but somehow that had faded and she had started arguing with him all the time. Why hadn't she been afraid of him then? They would yell at each other and shout at each other and insult each other, but he had never tried to hurt her. But didn't she hate him? Didn't he annoy and frustrate and irritate her at every turn? Then she started to wonder if he had provoked her just to get her attention. And she wondered if she had allowed him to because she had wanted to.

 

She looked back at her mother, and realized that what was happening between herself and Vegeta was something her mother had expected in some manner. Not only had she expected it, but she didn't seem to have any real objections to it. That surprised Bulma. She thought her mother would have all sorts of objections to any sort of relationship between herself and Vegeta, yet she didn't seem to mind.

 

Bulma stared at Vegeta, and then smiled uncertainly at him as she finished her omelet.

 

 

To be continued.....

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And in the next exciting episode of DragonBall Z: A Light in the Darkness... Good night sweetheart?

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Just a quick note. I've gotten emails and comments from people saying that Bulma is a bad cook. Actually, that is purely a fanfic creation authors use as an excuse to have Bulma and Vegeta fight all the time. In the series it isn't mentioned that she's a bad cook, and in fact, Mirai Trunks tells the Z warriors that his mother is a good cook. Also, she cooked several times in Dragonball, and no one ever complained when she did. She might not cook often, but that doesn't mean she can't.

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