Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ A Dark Heart ❯ A Reunion ( Chapter 14 )

Yamcha hastily removed the shirt he usually wore underneath his gi as he watched Krillin do the same. Bulma was sitting next to him, still on the pilot's seat, and he noticed she'd already removed her jumper too and she'd pulled her hair into a messy bun.

The heat was suffocating.

About fifteen minutes had passed since they'd landed on Planet Z365 and they were still inside the ship, waiting for the warriors outside to open the gate and let them out. The technology those people possessed was impressive, even to Bulma, since they'd been able to disconnect their control system entirely, leaving their vehicle completely at their mercy. As a result, the woman had been unable to analyze a single aspect of their new destination. The only thing they knew for sure was that the weather appeared to be quite close to a tropical one, both hot and humid at the same time. The blue haired woman was about to suggest they all went to their cabins to change into something a bit lighter when, out of the blue, the door of the space ship opened automatically.

Bulma was the first to stand.

“Alright boys, this is it,” she said determinedly.

“Remember, do not give them any information about our planet of origin and try not to show any sign of fear.”

Both men stood up, walking by her side as she strode towards the exit. They all paused for an instant as they reached the gate, looking outside with inquisitive eyes, trying to find out what exactly they were about to deal with.

“Wow…” Krillin whispered in awe.

Planet Z365 was extremely different from the frozen planet they'd last visited. It reminded Bulma of planet Mars, full of red land and an orange-red sky to match, accompanied by an almost claustrophobic hot humidity and an abundance of jungle-like vegetation that looked nothing like the plants and trees from Earth.

As the earthlings exited the ship, they noticed they'd landed on some kind of path, perhaps the equivalent of a landing track, and there were only two people in sight, standing outside the space vehicle, disinterestedly waiting for the visitors to approach them. The first thing Yamcha and Krillin did as they saw the two warriors was concentrate, trying to guess their power level.

It was high.

Both of them were much stronger than the scarred faced warrior, and one seemed to be about as powerful as Krillin, the other one being quite stronger than the bald man. The warriors were wearing scouters, which meant they were probably unable to fully read their power levels without help, and they wouldn't know the humans could hide and modify theirs.

The three comrades confidently walked towards the red planet's inhabitants, until they found themselves standing right in front of them. Bulma instantly recognized the tallest one as the fish faced alien that had first questioned them through the holographic screen inside the ship, the other one was much shorter, had bright pink skin and he provided Krillin with an immediate sense of déjà vu as he recalled his battle on Namek: he seemed to belong to Dodoria's race.

Both alien warriors stood silently, switching on their scouters and proceeding to get a glimpse of the visitors' power levels, which they'd been wise enough to hide as much as they could. Even though Krillin and Yamcha didn't possess a large amount of strength, they figured that the least intimidating they looked the better. They could only hope Vegeta would still be on their side and he'd protect them from his new army of men.

After the aliens had made sure that the three travelers were harmless, they smirked smugly, looking at each other and swiftly turned to them.

“Follow us” the tallest one simply said, and he took off, flying, without even waiting for a reply.

The three friends exchanged a quick glance, they nodded and followed them. Yamcha held Bulma tightly as he flew her, and he thanked the Gods it was a short flight, because having to hold the hot and slightly sweaty beauty in his arms was certainly reawakening memories he'd thought buried in his memory long ago…

About ten minutes later, the aliens landed in front of a large building, and the earthlings quickly imitated them. Once they were all on firm ground, they were finally able to examine their surroundings, and they couldn't help but gawk at the sight: in front of them stood the most luxurious palace they'd ever seen, surrounded by beautiful gardens filled with colorful flowers all around it.

“We have been ordered to take you to your rooms” the pink skinned alien neutrally said as he walked into the building.

Bulma bravely followed the man, fiercely protected by Yamcha and Krillin walking right behind, and she marveled at the beauty around her. The palace was made of some kind of polished white stone she couldn't identify, and it shone proudly, reminding the heiress of a little trip to India she'd made with her parents as a child, during which they'd visited the Taj Mahal. The inside of the building was still quite hot and humid, although it felt cooler than the weather outside.

Suddenly, the woman shivered, and she knew it had nothing to do with the temperature.

It was because of him.

She didn't know how, but she could feel him.

He was close, so close she could taste him, and yet, despite the fact that she'd dreamt about this moment for months, she had a bad feeling deep inside the pit of her stomach she couldn't fully identify, but that was internally driving her insane.

Bulma felt his emotions, a hazardous combination of confusion and anticipation, but above all, anger.

He was furious, she could tell, and the palms of her hands slowly covered themselves in cold sweat as the woman felt the urge to put her arms around her in an attempt to seek some comfort.

But of course, she didn't.

Bulma Briefs was no coward, she was a woman on a mission, and she'd already promised herself she'd do anything in her power to bring the Saiyan Prince back home, where he belonged. And the more she looked around her, the more she felt this place wasn't made for either of them.

This was Frieza's residence: white, immaculate and cold.

In spite of its obvious beauty, the frozen palace was giving her the creeps, and she knew deep down that Vegeta had been a million times happier back of Earth, with her, in her luxurious but warm home, and that's where she intended to take him as soon as she could. If he'd only let her…

The long hallway they'd been walking through reached its end, coming across a bifurcation, and the aliens stopped walking, they turned around and spoke once again, pointing towards Krillin and Yamcha.

“The woman will come with us now. You two, wait here until we take you to your rooms”, the fish faced warrior said.

“Like hell we will!” Yamcha yelled protectively.

The alien raised an eyebrow, amused by the weakling's hot headed reaction. He smirked as he replied.

“Listen, boy, we're just following orders. Lord Vegeta wants the woman to stay close to his personal chambers, and that's where she's going, whether you like it or not”.

“Are we going to have a problem?” the pink skinned alien asked popping his knuckles, eager to start a fight.

“There's no problem at all, gentlemen”, Bulma replied, giving her ex-lover a look of warning.

“I actually prefer to remain close to Lord Vegeta, given that I have business to discuss with him”.

Yamcha and Krillin nodded, trying to remind themselves that Vegeta would never hurt their friend.

“Alright”, the scarred faced human said, gently squeezing the heiress' hand and whispering in her ear.

“Be careful, B., if something bad happens yell and run as fast as you can, we'll stay alert in case there's anything you need”.

Bulma nodded, waving goodbye to her friends and following the aliens throughout a new and different hallway. This one was narrower and darker, the heavy burgundy curtains that hung by the windows were almost entirely closed, giving the place a gloomy vibe. It was a far cry from the luminous ambiance she'd viewed when she'd first entered the palace.

They walked for a couple of minutes before they reached a large golden door, they stood in front of it and the Dodoria-like alien opened the heavy gate, stretching his arm, silently ordering her to enter the room behind him.

“Lord Vegeta will see you tonight. He wishes you to remain here until then. There is a large bath tub in the private bathroom and clean towels in case you want to freshen up”, he said that last thing with a lecherous look on his face that made Bulma inwardly cringe in disgust.

“Food and water will be delivered into your room in a few minutes”.

Before the blue haired woman had time to reply, the massive door loudly closed behind her, leaving her completely alone inside her new room.

Bulma stood by the door for a few seconds, trying to assimilate everything that had just happened. She shook her head in frustration and she finally took a look around her, inspecting her new surroundings with inquisitiveness. The room was massive, at least four times larger than her bedroom back on Earth, but again, there was nothing warm or cozy about it. It was almost empty, all white stone with touches of red and gold, and she quickly guessed that not only had Frieza been an evil bastard, but his taste had also been very `nouveau riche' so to speak.

The scientist slowly paced through the room, admiring the minimalist but tacky décor, and she knew without a doubt that this had nothing to do with Vegeta's taste. Back on Earth, the warrior had selected one of the smallest guest rooms available at Capsule Corp., choosing to sleep on a large chair by the window until he'd finally been able to get used to sleeping on the single bed provided for him. Bulma and her mother had tried to encourage him to make him feel at home, and the older woman had even offered to buy new furniture for the Prince, but he wouldn't have it, claiming to have more than enough to satisfy his needs. For a Royal, the Saiyan had lived his life frugally, and his only requirements had been high quality training equipment, abundant food and clean clothes.

After discovering the large bathroom, which contained both a huge bath tub and a separate shower, Bulma tiredly sat on the bed. She felt sad, she truly did. Even though she knew she'd finally be able to see Vegeta and talk to him that night, she was also disappointed by how icy and impersonal these new circumstances seemed to be.

Would he be happy to see her on some level? Sure, she'd felt his anger, and she knew he'd probably behave like an asshole at first, but the romantic silly little girl that still lived inside of her was also hoping he'd missed her as much as she'd missed him.

Bulma finally stood up, choosing to take a shower, since she felt hot, sweaty and disgusting after her long trip and the unexpected tropical weather they'd encountered. She briefly wondered how Krillin and Yamcha were doing, hoping they wouldn't get in trouble because of her.

The woman entered the bathroom, locking the wooden door behind her, and she stared at her reflection in the mirror.

She looked terrible, or maybe she thought she did because that's also how she felt emotionally. Her practical side overcame her vanity, and she decided she'd simply shower and put on some fresh, comfortable clothes. After all, she knew she'd need more than her physical beauty in order to convince the Prince to go back home with her and their son.

Trunks.

She missed her baby so much some days she could barely get out of bed, and as she allowed the cool water to fall over her skin inside the shower, she let the tears fall once again, knowing that when she faced her man she'd have to display the strength that she knew the Saiyan had fallen in love with in the past. She lathered up both her hair and her body, she rinsed thoroughly and she exited the shower, wrapping her tiny body on a clean towel as she walked towards the bed. Bulma searched through her red belt for the capsule that contained her clothes, she opened it and she absentmindedly went through the enormous pile of garments now spread on the bed. She chose a white summer dress with thin straps, a close-fitting waist that complimented her figure and a loose skirt that reached her knees; she also selected a pair of red sandals. It was the right choice, both casual and pretty. She encapsulated the clothes again, she hid the belt underneath the large mattress and she languidly lay on the bed, falling into a deep sleep almost immediately.

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The heiress had no idea how long she'd been asleep for, all she knew was that by the time the loud knock on the door finally awoke her, the sky was already dark. She sleepily sat down on the bed as the fish faced alien opened the door after allowing her a couple of minutes of courtesy.

“It's time” he simply said, waiting by the door with his arms crossed.

Bulma blinked lazily, forcing herself to wake up as she slowly crawled through the king-sized bed. She finally stood up and she walked towards the door, not before noticing a small cart by the bed, full of untouched food and drinks, someone must have brought for her while she was asleep.

She closely followed the alien warrior through the faintly lit corridors of the giant palace, silently yawning and trying to comb her still lightly damp hair with her slender fingers, wondering if she'd look like an unkempt mess in Vegeta's eyes.

As she approached the Saiyan warrior, she found herself getting more and more nervous, a million contradictory thoughts going through her mind. What would he say to her? And what would he do when he finally saw her? Would he treat her like shit? She doubted it. Not after all the emotion she'd seen in those dark eyes the night before he'd left the Earth; their last night together.

Bulma run her hands over her dress, reminding herself that they had a history together. For Dende's sake, they shared a son! A baby boy he'd asked her to take care of in that daunting recording she'd listened to…

The blue haired beauty was so lost in thought that she hadn't seen the alien stop, making her almost collide with him. She was able to stop in time, startled, and she waited next to him, nervously fidgeting with her hands as the fished faced warrior finally opened the large wooden door that stood proudly right in front of them.

“He's all yours…” the man said with an almost malicious smirk, seemingly finding the whole situation quite amusing.

“Thank you” she said, her head held high, with a confidence she really didn't feel at the moment.

Bulma walked into the dark room, hearing the door stridently close behind her, she stood by the entrance, her drowsy eyes trying to get accustomed to the lack of light, and then she saw him.

He was standing by a large window, offering his naked back to her, with crossed arms and tense shoulders.

The window, like the ones from the corridors that led to this room, were also covered by almost shut heavy curtains, only this time the burgundy had been replaced by royal blue. His compact body was softly illuminated by the few moon rays that had been allowed inside the room. A few white candles, strategically placed throughout the closed space provided the rest of the light available that barely allowed her to see.

He remained immobile, looking outside the window, without talking or acknowledging her presence in any way. Bulma just stood there, almost hypnotized, the scene seemed surreal to her, and she felt tempted to pinch herself just to make sure she wasn't actually dreaming.

“Bulma” he finally said, his tone firm but strangely polite.

The woman swallowed, her throat suddenly feeling awfully dry.

“Vegeta”, she replied in a similar tone.

He kept talking, still avoiding looking at her.

“Did you hear the message I left for you?” he asked neutrally.

“I did.”

Silence.

“And yet here you are…”

More silence, she had nothing to say to that, since it was pretty obvious she'd dared to disobey his orders.

He finally turned around, slowly facing her, and he proceeded to walk towards her. He looked like an animal, a dark sleek panther about to devour his innocent prey. He stopped in the middle of the room, his powerful arms still crossed in front of him defensively. She could barely distinguish the features of his face in the dark, what she did notice though, was that he seemed to be a tad thinner than he'd been back on Earth.

Bulma bit her lower lip, wanting nothing more at that moment than getting close to him, so she could look him in the eye and try to understand what the hell was going on inside the warrior's head.

“Why are you here, Bulma?” he asked, his husky voice emphasizing her name, which he'd barely used back in her home planet, but he'd already used twice tonight.

“I came to take you home,” she bravely replied, trying to keep fear away from her slightly trembling voice.

He tilted his head to the right and she saw the hint of a smirk on his regal face.

“Home?”

“Yes, home.”

“With you?” He asked again.

By now the heiress was completely dumbfounded. Was he mocking her? She'd expected his fury, his passion, or probably a combination of both, but she certainly hadn't expected him to mock her or to be condescending towards her.

“Yes, home. With me…” She paused. “With us,” she corrected.

“Us? You mean with you and the boy?” He asked playfully.

“Yes.” She replied again, trying to remain calm. Whatever reaction he was trying to get from her, she wasn't going to give it to him. By now, she was starting to get the feeling that he was trying to behave like an asshole to push her away from him, and she'd be damned if she was going to allow that to happen. The Prince might have been a masterful tactician, but then again, so was she.

“And what makes you think I'm not at home already?”

“Because this place is no one's home,” she assuredly replied.

“Oh?” He asked, mocking curiosity in his tone.

“This is not a home, this is a mausoleum, and as far as I know you're still alive, Lord Vegeta”, she obviously laughed at his `title', wondering how seriously he'd actually taken his new role in the Universe.

Oh, yes…

She'd gotten a reaction out of him, alright... He was now walking towards her…

He stood right in front of her, uncrossing his arms, staring at her. Even though she could now feel his warm breath over her pale face, his face remained half hidden in the shadows. If only she could look into those eyes…

“You think I'm alive, Bulma?” He asked in a low bedroom voice that made her body quiver.

The heiress slowly moved her hand, tenderly placing it on his robust chest, over his heart. It was beating strongly, just for her.

“You are very much alive, my Prince” she whispered almost seductively.

“You think so, uh?”

“I don't think so. I can feel it, beating against my hand…”

Bulma could sense it.

Their bodies were already responding to their close proximity against their will. Her nostrils inhaled that earthy, musky scent that belonged so unmistakably to him, and she knew he was reacting to her on some level too, since his breathing was deeper and heavier now.

Dende! She wanted to kiss him! Having those lips softly panting over hers was maddening, and yet, even though he was finally so close to her, there was an impenetrable wall between them. A wall he'd craftily built around himself, a wall she'd destroyed little by little back on Earth, patiently and lovingly, over the course of three years. But things were different now, now they had a child that was waiting for them back home. Now, there was no time for bullshit. She had to get them out of this place as soon as she could.

His manly voice abruptly brought her back to reality, breaking the spell his body was casting over hers.

“Perhaps my body is lying to you, Bulma… Perhaps I am dead already…”

His voice was still low, but the mockery was now being replaced by an almost haunted tone.

“Bullshit,” she replied, softly but firmly. “I've never met a man more alive than you are, Vegeta.”

He hissed, letting out a low growl.

She was definitely awakening emotions inside of him…

And then he touched her.

The palm of his calloused hand placed itself over her sternum, and it slowly slid towards her neck, remaining there, thick fingers over her pulse, as he kept talking to her.

“Would you like to be Queen, Bulma? Is that what this is about?”

“W-What?” She asked, honestly surprised by this new question.

He laughed an evil, scornful laugh.

“You heard me, Bulma, would you like to be Queen? To share my power? Would you enjoy ruling the Universe with me?”

“N-No…” She replied, confused.

`What the fuck?'

Did he really think that's what she wanted? Or was he still playing games, messing with her head?

“Think about it, Bulma… You'd be by my side… The new ruler of the Universe…”

By now, the scientist didn't really know what to think. Was he actually asking her to be his `Queen'? Was he testing her ambition? Perhaps it was time to change tactics…

“Is that what you are now, Vegeta? The new ruler of the Universe?” she asked cockily, almost challengingly.

She felt his body respond to the challenge, his strong hand squeezing her neck, reassuring her than he was still in control without hurting her.

“Look around you, Bulma. What the fuck do you think this is all about?”

Her small hand covered the one wrapped around her neck, reminding him of her presence. If he wanted honesty, she'd give him honesty.

“Alright,” she started. “Honestly? When I look around me all I see is a fucking dead place, built by a fucking dead monster, and in front of me, all I see is an asshole that was too fucking scared to give life on Earth a fucking chance, so he chose to run away in order to fulfill some fucking world domination fantasy that he probably doesn't even fucking have anymore”.

“The fuck did you say to me, woman?” He said angrily, his body trembling now, she didn't know if he was furious or nervous about her having touched a nerve.

“You heard me, you idiot. This is not a place for either of us.”

His breathing accelerated, his large hand firmly in place around her long neck.

“And where do you think I should be, Bulma?”

“On Earth, with Trunks and I,” she finally replied, trying to remain calm.

“Oh, really?” He asked malevolently. “So, you're suggesting that the Prince of all Saiyans gives up on the possibility of becoming ruler of the entire Universe so that he can go play house on some fucking backwater planet with a vulgar wench and a half-breed brat... Is that what you're…?”

He didn't finish the sentence.

He couldn't.

Bulma slapped him so hard he actually felt it.

She hit him in the face and then she grasped his chin with one hand, her nails scratching his skin aggressively.

“Watch it, asshole!” She whispered angrily against his lips. “I know what you're trying to do, and you can give me all the shit you want, but the Gods help me, if you ever talk about my baby like that again I'll fucking murder you in your sleep…”

She was panting now, her angry breath grazing his lips…

She was furious, furious because she could feel him trying to revert to his old ways and failing miserably. He was lost somewhere between being a good man and an evil bastard, and she realized he probably didn't know who he was anymore. So, she'd give him a little push…

She let go of him, shoving him off violently, away from her, she crossed her arms and she paced the room, inspecting it confidently.

He turned around, his eyes never leaving her tiny figure, seemingly shocked by her courageous behavior.

“So, this is it, uh?” She said. “Lord Vegeta… The new Master of the Universe… How does it feel? Does it feel good?” She asked proudly.

He remained silent, and she realized he hadn't really expected her to take control of the situation and didn't quite know what to say.

“Are you happy now?”

“I have fulfilled my destiny, woman” he finally replied.

“Bullshit” she said, standing by his bed, arms still crossed, looking him in the eye fearlessly.

“Watch it, woman…” he said menacingly, but the heiress could feel the disconcert in his voice.

“You were not born to be Ruler of the Universe, Vegeta…”

“Really, now? I suppose that brilliant mind of yours will let me know what my purpose in life is… Let me guess… I was born to play happy families with you on Earth. Am I right, little girl?” He asked condescendingly.

She ignored his attack and she replied self-assuredly.

“No. You are a Prince; you were born to reign over your people, not to be some evil intergalactic space lord”.

“My people are right here with me. My men…”

“Bullshit!” She cut him off again. “Those are not your men, Vegeta…”

She walked towards him, standing right in front of him.

“Don't pretend to tell me about my business, woman...”

She shrugged nonchalantly.

“I'm not pretending anything, my dear… I'm telling it how it is. You can take it or leave it, do whatever you want, but these men are not your men, Vegeta.”

She boldly grabbed his hand, making his fingers twitch, and she dragged him towards the side of the bed, near the candlelight. He knew he could easily resist her force, but his curiosity got the best of him and he let her drag him behind her. Once she reached the desired place, she turned towards him, gently grasping his jaw between her hands.

“Let me take a look at you, Vegeta…” she whispered, her gorgeous bright blue eyes knowingly inspecting his black ones. “You look tired…”

He kept quiet, holding her gaze.

“When was the last time you had a good night's sleep? I bet it was back on Earth…”

“You presume much, woman…” he replied, staring mesmerized at her luscious lips.

She smiled sweetly.

Oh, yeah… It was still there. Whatever `it' was that had brought them together, it hadn't disappeared over these past few months. If anything, she'd bet that the attraction was stronger than ever, just waiting for both of them to simply give in to each other. And Bulma knew it wasn't just a physical attraction, although the sex had always felt incredible. No, it was something else, a greater understanding and mutual respect towards each other that neither of them had ever known before.

“I bet you have to sleep with one eye open…” she kept whispering. “I bet you thought this life would bring you some comfort, but it doesn't…”

His hands reached her face, softly caressing her rosy cheeks, her skin glowing even in the dark… His lips moved, but the words were not coming out. His confusion was evident, and the earthling decided to keep pushing…

“I know you, Vegeta…” she murmured against his lips.

“Do you?” he replied against hers.

“Mmmm… I do…”

Her lips were close, so close, and she wondered what he would do if she finally kissed him, but he brought her back to reality, once again, with his harsh words.

“You don't know shit, woman…” he said, his strong hands squeezing her cheeks making her lips pout faintly.

“I know… I know you, Vegeta. I saw you… I saw the video…”

“What video?” He asked in confusion.

“The night you left… You kissed me in my sleep and then…” The Gods help her, she could feel her eyes burning again, but she couldn't cry, not in front of him. “Then I saw you with Trunks… You whispered something to him and then… You kissed him…”

“Aaaargh!” He roared, brusquely letting go her, squeezing his eyes shut, as if trying to delete the memories. “Shut up! Don't think you can manipulate me with any of your emotional bullshit!” he yelled, pointing a finger intimidatingly at her.

“Manipulate you? Am I not telling the truth? What's the matter, Lord Vegeta? Can't you handle the fucking truth?”

“Quiet, woman!” he shouted, pacing the room like a wild animal trapped in a cage.

Bulma, shocked by his furious outburst, sat down on the bed. The unshed tears were still in her eyes, and she was truly exhausted. She'd tried to play his game, but she wondered, for the first time that night, if she could really bring him back from that dark place of denial he was living in. She placed her arms around her, hugging herself, trying to find some comfort in the middle of this incredibly stressful situation.

Both lovers remained silent, the blue haired beauty sitting quietly on the bed, and the Saiyan warrior still pacing the room, running his hands through his wild mane.

“Why did you leave us, Vegeta?” she asked softly. “I just… I know that you care…”

“My destiny… I have to fulfill my destiny…” He kept saying, over and over again, almost talking to himself.

Bulma sighed, shaking her head in defeat

“Vegeta, I… I'm not going to pretend to know how you're feeling… I know your life hasn't been easy and…”

“You don't know shit!” he cut her off. “You don't know what it's like when everything is fucking taken away from you every single fucking time!”

A tear fell off Bulma's cheek.

“You're right, baby, I don't, but if you let me, maybe I could…”

“You could what?” He said, brusquely sitting on a large chair by the window. “Are you going to save me, Bulma?”

He was going back to his mocking tone, and it was clear as water to Bulma now that he was trying to protect himself from his own vulnerability.

“Vegeta, it's not my job to save you, and honestly, I think you were already doing a pretty good job yourself. You fought with us, by our side. You reacted protectively when Cell attacked our son…”

“Don't!” He yelled again. “Don't even fucking go there, woman!”

“What the fuck, Vegeta?!” she shouted, standing up and walking towards him. She sat down in front of the Prince, who was now sitting on the heavy chair, his hunched shoulders reminding her of their last night together on Earth. She knelt on the floor, caressing his cheek once more.

“There's nothing shameful about caring for others, Vegeta, especially for your own son…”

“It didn't work anyway…” he whispered, staring at the floor now.

“What didn't work?”

“My attack… I… I let our child die… I failed him…”

“No, baby, you didn't… Mirai Trunks told me all about it before he left. You should have seen him… He was happy, Vegeta! Happy to know that you cared!”

“What do you want from me, Bulma?” he finally asked, still avoiding her gaze.

“I… I just want you back, with us… I just…”

“Why?” He asked again, his dark eyes now piercing hers.

Oh, Dende… He was really going to make her say it…

“Be-Because I love you…”

He hissed.

“Don't lie to me, woman!”

“W-What?”

He stood up, grabbing her by the shoulders and making her stand in front of him.

“I SAID, DON'T FUCKING LIE TO ME!!!”

Bulma was trembling now, utterly confused. Her father's words repeated themselves over and over again inside her head.

He didn't believe she could love him.

He didn't believe anyone could love him.

She'd never met a man more wounded, more severely damaged than the one standing in front of her, furiously panting like an animal that had been abused for so long that he couldn't discern love even though it was staring at him, right on his face.

“Ve-Vegeta… Please, calm down… I'm not lying to you. Why would I lie? My Gods! I'm here, am I not? Would I have come all the way here, leaving our child alone, if I didn't love you?”

“YOU LIE, WOMAN! I SHOULD FUCKING KILL YOU FOR PLAYING GAMES WITH ME!!!”

He squeezed his eyes shut again and he let go of her, furiously walking towards the door and opening it violently. The short pink skinned alien stood behind it, guarding the Prince's chambers, and his face contorted in horror as he witnessed his Lord, all golden hair and teal eyes, standing right in front of him.

“Take the woman back to her room,” he ordered menacingly.

“Y-Yes… Of… Of course my L-Lord!”

“WOMAN!” He yelled. “COME HERE!”

Bulma sloppily walked towards him, she was shaking, wanting to open her mouth and say something to him but unable to do so. She realized it would be better to leave, to allow him to calm down before she approached him again. She reached the door and she walked past him, avoiding his gaze in case she made him angrier. The pink skinned alien started to walk through the corridors and she sheepishly followed behind, still feeling Vegeta's eyes on her back. Just before they were about to turn around the corner and out of the Saiyan's sight, the warrior's voice boomed through the building.

“DODONNE!” He yelled.

It must have been the alien's name, for he quickly turned around to face his Master once again.

“Y-Yes, my Lord?”

“MAKE SURE SHE DOESN'T LEAVE HER ROOM AND GUARD HER WITH YOUR LIFE. IF ANYTHING HAPPENS TO HER, I'LL KILL EVERY SINGLE FUCKING MAN ON THIS FILTHY PLANET!”

“Of… Of course, my Lord!” The pink alien said, nervously nodding.

As the confused, crying woman slowly walked back to her room, she allowed a small smile to grace her lips as she finally realized something.

He'd given orders to keep her safe, which could only mean one thing.

He still cared for her.