Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ A Dark Heart ❯ A New Target ( Chapter 18 )

Two of his men were already awaiting him, and stood in formation the moment they saw the Prince land. Bulma felt Vegeta's body tense against hers instantly, and observed in fascination the way his body language morphed immediately into a commanding posture.  

“My Lord,” they both said at once, bowing reverently at the same time.

The Prince saw the enquiring way in which his men kept looking at the half-dressed woman still in his arms and he didn't like it one bit, so he turned to her.

“Can you walk now?” He asked Bulma in a low voice.

The heiress nodded awkwardly, unwrapping her long legs from his waist and standing on the floor. The Saiyan finally let go of her, distancing himself and crossing his arms in an imposing stance.

“What is it? Any news for me?” He asked the two men with authority.

“Yes, my Lord. Your intelligence agent arrived about two hours ago, and I believe he's been able to acquire the information you were seeking,” one of them replied in a respectful manner.

“Very well. Have him visit my chambers immediately,” Vegeta finally said; he turned around with a self-imposed neutral expression on his face.

“Woman, follow me,” he ordered, and then looked at Krillin and Yamcha. “You two can stay outside and do as you please as long as you don't abandon the planet without my consent”.

Bulma gave a soft reassuring smile to her friends, leaving them behind and following Vegeta's orders without complaining, not wanting to argue with her mate in front of his men. She got the feeling he was trying not to let the men know how close they actually were as a couple for her own protection, so she simply walked behind him, her bare feet making faint sounds against the cold marbled floors. Vegeta finally stopped when he reached a large door the heiress recognized right away in horror: her bedroom door.

“You will stay in your room, shower and wait for my instructions,” he said coldly, his eyes avoiding her gaze.

Bulma looked around, trying to make sure they'd left the Prince's men behind and it was just the two of them before she had a chance to open her mouth.

“No,” she simply replied, crossing her arms firmly.

“What did you just say, woman?” He asked, now staring at her. He seemed to be slightly taken aback by her rebellious attitude.

“I said no,” she repeated, lifting her chin challengingly, her voice steady and still.

The warrior inhaled deeply through his nose, trying to remain cool. Once calm, he approached her slowly and threateningly, talking to her in a low menacing voice.

“You listen to me, woman, you will do as I say, are we clear?”

“Like Hell I will!” Bulma exploded. If the Prince of all Assholes thought she was going to keep playing this submissive woman little game of his he had another thing coming.

“If you think you're going to keep fucking ordering me around like a little slave girl you're mistaken, you idiot!” She yelled at him, now defiantly poking at his chest with her finger. Vegeta quickly grabbed the hand that was touching him aggressively, bringing his face even closer to hers.

“Watch it, Bulma! The Gods help me, if you don't follow my rules I'll…”

“You'll, what?! Lock me up again like a damn prisoner? I'd like to see you try…” She challenged.

“Don't test me, woman…” He growled, his entire body now trembling, not only in anger at his mate's insubordinate attitude, but also in excitement. This woman was a little firecracker and he fucking loved her for it…

As if reading her thoughts and the hunger now written all over his handsome face, Bulma smirked playfully, whispering against his starving lips.

“If you want to lock me up, you'll have to do it yourself Lord Vegeta… But be careful… If you think I'm going to simply obey your stupid rules you might end up regretting them…”

Vegeta frowned at her words.

It was a threat, and not a very subtle one.

And the man knew she was dead serious. Yes, he might try to lock her up, but if his genius woman chose to try to rebel and escape from her confinement she might very well end up succeeding, and even worse, getting hurt in the process. The planet was full of men he didn't fully trust yet, and a stunning woman like Bulma walking around could end up getting hurt, truly hurt. In the back of his mind, even someone like Vegeta could admit to himself that the way he'd been treating his mate hadn't exactly been the best way but, at the same time, he really didn't know what to do about her, and he had not fucking idea what it was she honestly wanted from him either. The warrior also knew the heiress was almost as stubborn as he was, and there'd be no changing her mind about this matter, so, like a good tactician, he decided to take a different course of action.

“Fair enough…” He whispered, letting go of her hand and crossing his arms defensively. “What is it that you want then, woman?”

Bulma remained silent for a moment, truly shocked by her mate's sudden change of attitude. Was this a new game he was playing? Or was he actually giving her a chance to talk to him?

“Time,” she finally answered.

The Prince raised an eyebrow questioningly and the woman let out a heavy sigh.

“I just… I just want some time, Vegeta… Some… Some time alone, with you…”

Her tone had changed, and she was now talking to him in a softer manner, almost pleading with him. He was aware of how proud the scientist was and how difficult these new circumstances must have been for her, and he also knew she was right. The woman seemed to be simply requesting some alone time with him, and Vegeta could acknowledge he owed her at least that much. Sure, he could simply grab her and shove her inside the goddamned room by brute force, but Bulma would never forgive him for that.

Nor would he forgive himself.

He couldn't stand the thought of his little mate hating him. She was the one person in his whole miserable life whose hatred he wouldn't be able to endure…

“Alright, then... Come with me…” He finally said, turning around and walking resolutely towards his luxurious chambers.

Bulma followed closely behind, wondering about what the hell had gotten into that man to make him change his mind all of a sudden, but she hoped, once again, that this would be a positive sign; perhaps the Saiyan was finally learning a lesson or two on interpersonal relationships…

Just as they were about to reach his rooms, the heiress saw three men already waiting for Vegeta by the door. One was Dodonne, the pink alien, and the other two belonged to that fish-faced race of aliens she'd seen quite a few times already, but she couldn't recognize exactly who they were.

“My Lord…” The three men said, bowing once more.

The Prince ignored them completely, opening the door and wordlessly inviting Bulma into his bedroom. She shyly walked inside the opulent but cold place, turning around with distrust in her eyes. What if her mate simply decided to lock her up in here? As if reading her feelings, the Saiyan talked to her in an attempt to appease her doubts.

“Stay here, woman, I'll be right back.”

Just as he was about to get out, Bulma boldly grabbed his wrist, forcing him to look at her once again.

“Vegeta…” She murmured.

“Bulma, I'm not leaving you alone in here. I'll be right outside, and we'll discuss matters in a short time, alright?” He promised, trying to sound reassuring. It must have done the trick, because she nodded and let go of him.

“Okay, I trust you…”

Trust.

Again.

It was the second time that day the blasted woman had told him she trusted him.

What the actual hell was wrong with her?

He chose to ignore those big blue eyes begging him to stay and walked out the door, closing it behind him but leaving it slightly ajar, thus allowing Bulma to snoop and listen in to the conversation taking place outside.

“Did you locate the target?” The Prince simply asked.

“Yes, my Lord. The target was relatively easy to find, I have compiled all the information collected in here, including the coordinates of the target's exact location.”

“You've done well, soldier. If your information proves to be correct you'll be rewarded accordingly,” Vegeta's voice replied.

“Thank you, my Lord…” The soldier replied respectfully, his voice full of relief and satisfaction at having served his Master well.

“Go eat and get some rest, soldiers. That will be all.”

“My Lord,” all three voices spoke at the same time.

The Saiyan entered his room immediately, holding an electronic device similar to a tablet in his hand. He found Bulma sitting on his bed cross-legged, and one look at her face told him she'd heard the whole conversation.

“What was that all about? What target were you looking for?” She asked, unable to hide her apprehension.

Vegeta sat wearily on a chair by the door, the pain in his fractured ribs was bothering him again and he was too tired to deal with all that was happening at the moment. He pinched the bridge of his nose, avoiding his mate's gaze and he replied.

“It's nothing, woman… Why don't you just take a shower first?”

Bulma remained silent for a few seconds. She could tell he was lying to her, but he also looked like hell, and by the way he was sitting it looked like his old wound still hurt him. It was almost as if he'd been acting, playing a part in front of his men, and only allowed himself to show his true shattered nature in front of her. Perhaps a shower would give them both some time to cool off before they finally managed to have some sort of conversation.

“Will you be here when I get back?” She inquired in a soft voice, making him raise his eyes and look at her tiredly.

“I'll be right here, Bulma, you have my word. Now go take a shower and put some clothes on, woman…”

The heiress nodded and entered Vegeta's bathroom, carefully closing the door behind her and taking off her clothes. The place was even larger and more lavish than the one she'd been staying at, and yet it was almost empty; the only objects laying around were a bar of soap and a couple of white towels. In the corner, she also found the remains of what looked like a tattered armor covered in dried-up blood.

“Oh, Dende…” Bulma mumbled absentmindedly while she entered the shower.

Outside, the Prince walked to the bed and sat on it, examining the red belt he'd seen his woman carrying around. He saw at once that it was full of tiny capsules, a lot smaller than the ones he owned, undoubtedly one her newest inventions.

He smirked.

“Clever little bitch…” He whispered.

By the time Bulma got out of the shower, clad only in one of Vegeta's white towels, her mate was laying on the bed, sleeping peacefully, clutching her belt in one of his hands. She smiled sweetly, and walked to the bed with the intention of getting the capsule that contained her clothing without waking him up.

Of course, she had no success…

The moment she touched him, the warrior automatically opened his eyes in alert, clutching her wrist in a strong grip.

“Vegeta… It's me…” She said in a low voice.

He had an odd look on his face, almost haunted, as if he didn't recognize her, and she felt the bones in her wrist pop.

“You're hurting me, Vegeta… Please, let go…” She begged softly, caressing his cheek and trying to ground him, to remind him of who she was and where they were.

The Prince blinked a few times in confusion and finally released her. He sat down, hissing at the sharp pain he was experiencing in his ribs, and run his hands through his hair a few times. He finally got up and walked to the bathroom, removing his shirt on the way and throwing it on the carpet. He closed the door, leaving a very disconcerted woman waiting for him outside.

`Get you shit together, Vegeta… What the fuck?'

The scalding water soothed his aching muscles while his mind raced at a million miles per hour.

What just happened? Had he hurt her? 

He knew something was seriously wrong with him. This wasn't like him. This wasn't like him at all… Lately he'd been feeling tired all the time, and yet, he'd been unable to sleep properly until she'd come back into his life. What did that mean? Did he actually need Bulma that badly by his side?

And what was even worse, he was supposed to go on a mission, what was he going to do with the woman? Take her with him?

No fucking way…

He left the shower and took a look in the mirror: he looked like death warmed up. And when he removed the gauze the woman had covered his wound with he saw that, even though it was looking a lot better, it wasn't healing as quickly as it should. His only hope was that the backstabbing bastard that had done this to him would be rotting in Hell for all eternity.

After realizing he hadn't brought any clothes with him, he wrapped a towel tightly around his waist and walked back to the room. The night had fallen by now and it was quite dark outside; inside his chamber, Bulma had lit up a couple of candles and was now looking out the window open-mouthed. Vegeta frowned and closed the distance between them, perplexed by his mate's behavior. She was still in her underwear and there was a huge pile of clothes on the bed, which could only mean she'd gotten distracted by something while she was getting dressed.

One look outside told him exactly what she was staring at…

Shit!

Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit…

“Woman…”

“Vegeta… What…? What are those men doing?” She whispered, absolutely horrified but unable to take her eyes off the disturbing scene taking place outside the palace, by the gardens.

There were several men removing what appeared to be three dead bodies.

Three beheaded dead bodies.

“Bulma, come here…” Vegeta said to her, grabbing her by the waist and removing her from the window. His heart sank when the woman flinched at his touch and rapidly took his hands off her.

“What were they doing?” She asked again, this time louder and with her eyes locked on his.

He'd fucked up.

Big time.

She wasn't supposed to see that, but there was no going back now…

“Punishment,” he finally replied.

“Punishment…” She repeated in a low voice. “What… What for?”

“That's not your business, woman! Now put some goddamned clothes on!” Vegeta yelled at her, stomping to the bed, grabbing a silk lavender robe and throwing it her way.

“Bullshit, Vegeta! I'm sick of all this `it's not your business' crap! What the fuck is going on here?”

The warrior closed his eyes and counted to ten, inhaling deeply in an attempt to calm down. He wasn't in the mood for this shit; his ribs hurt, he was getting a migraine and, worst of all, Bulma's eyes, so full of reprobation and judgement, were bringing him an unexpected sense of guilt and regret.

“Woman… Could you please just put some fucking clothes on?”

The heiress reluctantly put her robe on, closing the silky belt and sitting on the bed. Her heart was pounding inside her chest and the room was spinning around her.

This was simply too much for her…

“Did you do it?” She whispered, staring at the carpeted floor.

By now, her mate was back on the chair, one arm on the arm rest and another one supporting his head, hiding his dark eyes from her.

“No,” he replied reluctantly.

“W-Who did it then… Your men?”

Silence.

“Vegeta… I… I'm not going to judge you… I just…”

“You just what, woman?!” He roared.

“Goddammit! I'm just trying to understand you!”

Understand him?

Fucking great…

“What is it that you want me to say, uh? You wouldn't comprehend it anyway…” He said defiantly. His hands were now clutching the wooden armrests and he could feel the wood splitting between his rough fingers.

Bulma just looked at him in silence, knowing she had to tread lightly from now on. Whatever was going on in that garden, he said he hadn't done it. The heiress recalled her conversation with Khalla, and she kept telling herself that, even though the Saiyan's mind was half-broken, he was still capable of discerning good from evil, and whatever those men had done to get penalized in that manner, they probably deserved it. She knew she could yell at him, trying to force an answer out of him in an epic argument or…

Or maybe, just maybe, she could try to get closer to her mate. After all, she knew damn well he could have simply locked her up in that awful icy room by sheer force, but he'd chosen to bring her with him instead.

That had to be a good sign…

So Bulma made her move, slowly standing up from the bed and walking towards him. She could feel his eyes on her, those dark penetrating eyes, and she simply sat on his lap, accommodating her small body on one of his strong thighs. He was trembling in fury, and something else the earthling couldn't put her finger on. She knew Vegeta always resorted to anger when he wanted to protect himself from the outside world, so she decided to go in a different direction this time.

She removed one of the hands he had hooked on the now destroyed armrests and held it kindly.

“It's a shame, you know?” She spoke softly. “It was a nice chair…”

The Prince stared astonished at her pale hands as she carefully removed a few splinters from his fingertips. He had no idea what was truly driving his woman to behave like this, but her tenderness automatically seemed to calm him down. He gasped inaudibly when she licked a couple of tiny blood drops from his index finger as if they were her own, and when she was done, she intertwined her fingers with his, placing his hand on her lap and caressing it with her thumbs as she spoke.

“Tell me something… Did they deserve it?” She whispered in a voice that was full of warmth.

The surprising lack of accusation in her eyes and tone made the Saiyan open up to her.

“They did.”

“What did they do?”

“Woman… You don't want to know…”

“I'm a grown woman, Vegeta, whatever it was, I can take it…”

The warrior sighed with the unshakeable certainty that Bulma wasn't going to let the matter drop.

“They broke the rules,” he finally replied.

“What rules did they break?” The woman asked inquisitively.

“Rape.”

The heiress couldn't help the wave of nausea that the word made her feel, and she squeezed Vegeta's hand a little tighter as the memories of her conversations with Khalla came back to her. It was clear by now that her mate abhorred such actions.

“Did… Did they do it?” She managed to enquire once again.

“No, but they were close.” The Saiyan stopped for a moment, gently grabbing her chin and forcing her to look him in the eye. “Dangerously close,” he said in a low growl.

“I… I see…”

Bulma swallowed hard at both Vegeta's gaze and the barely concealed fury in his voice, and she unconsciously bit her lip before she continued.

“So… Did you order your men to punish them in that way?”

The Prince shook his head firmly, still maintaining eye contact with her.

“No. I ordered their arrest, but my men were the ones who chose the penalty.”

So, that's what it was…

The heiress remained silent, secretly enjoying the warm touch of the man's hand on her skin, and happy to know that Vegeta still remained true to some inflexible principles. The punishment of those soldiers had been horrifying, but then again, so were the actions they would have committed if they hadn't been stopped. While Bulma didn't know much about how things worked in space, she'd already guessed that it was like a wild jungle, a place where the strong took whatever or whoever they wanted by force if necessary, so she decided to drop the issue and move on to her next question.

“You mentioned a target… Is that… Is that a person?” She asked shyly.

He nodded, still looking deeply into those expressive blue eyes.

“May I ask who that is?”

“An old enemy,” Vegeta simply replied, unable to stop his thumb from caressing her silky cheek while he held her face.

“Alright…” Bulma continued, frowning slightly, trying to put all the pieces together inside her head.

“And, I'm assuming that person is on another planet…”

“He is.”

The Saiyan warrior kept humoring her, answering her questions and secretly wondering where she was going with this.

“When are you leaving?” She enquired again, deep down dreading the inevitable reply.

“Soon.”

“Is it… Is it a dangerous mission?”

“No.”

“Are you gonna kill him?”

“I am,” he replied with firm conviction, and the heiress felt her heartrate increase a little as her brilliant mind quickly attempted to form a plan.

“Alone?”

The Prince assented again.

“Take me with you…” She pleaded, the words escaping her mouth before she could fully grasp the consequences of what she was asking of him.

Vegeta's eyes opened wide, now holding his mate's delicate face with both hands and shaking her a little.

“Absolutely not! Are you insane, woman?”

“W-What? N-No… Vegeta just…”

“No!” He yelled, feeling an inexplicable rush of fury and fear for the scientist's safety take possession of him.

“You will go back to Earth, woman! And that's an order!”

Bulma flinched at those words. The strong, independent, rebellious side of her wanted to yell at him, to challenge his orders and his authority, but things were different now. If she actually wanted to get something from this man and try to build a more mature relationship with him, it was time to try a different approach…

“Vegeta…” She whispered, placing her tiny hands above the calloused ones that were still on her cheeks.

“Please… I promise…”

“Woman… What are you…?”

“Just listen to me, please…” She murmured. “I promise… I promise I won't get in your way… I trust you, and I'm sure you have your reasons to…”

“Bulma...” He whispered back, cutting her off. The warrior kept staring at her, shocked by her unusually docile behavior.

“Vegeta… You just… Just… Take me with you…”

The heiress got even closer to her mate, gently resting her forehead against his, staring right into his dark unfathomable eyes. She could feel his hot ragged breath against her lips and she'd never wanted to kiss him as desperately as in that instant.

“Woman… I can't…” Vegeta replied, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment while he fought the urge to give in to her wishes. He could feel his body melt against her proximity and his resolve rapidly crumble…

What was it about his little mate that made him lose control this way?

“Remember what you asked before? You asked me what it was that I wanted, and I told you… I want some time… Just… Some time alone with you, Vegeta…”

She kept caressing his bronzed skin with her frail hands, destroying the walls he'd carefully built around himself once more after he'd left her behind, smashing those barriers, one by one, with her gentle touch…

“Why?” He enquired, forcing himself to hold her gaze again.

“Because… Because it's never been the two of us, Vegeta… There's always been something else, something…”

“Bulma… What are you talking about? We have been alone together, woman…”

She shook her head slowly, laying a feathery kiss on the corner of his lips that made something inside his chest tighten.

“No, baby… Can't you see? There was all that madness… All that madness around us… Your training for the androids, and…”

“I had to train, woman!” He whispered furiously, interrupting her once more.

“I know that, and I'm not berating you for it… Didn't I help you with your training myself?”

He remained silent.

She had.

This silly little woman had helped him more than anyone he'd ever met in his entire miserable existence.

“All I'm saying is… I… I loved every single moment we shared together back then… But there was always something else… The danger of the androids, and then my pregnancy and you leaving and… I just…”

She paused, biting her lower lip in frustration.

Bulma could feel her eyes burning, a combination of the humiliation of having to beg this man for some alone time together and the sorrow of realizing they hadn't truly had the opportunity to give their relationship, or whatever this thing between them was, a real try.

It just felt so unfair…   

“I want a few days with you… Just a few days… You do whatever you have to do, I won't judge you or get in your way… And then we just… We just spend some time together, just the two of us…”

She stopped talking, and the sight of her, looking at him expectantly with pleading eyes, made Vegeta finally come to a realization he'd probably known all along...

He wanted her.

He wanted her so fucking much it hurt.

He knew taking Bulma with him was dangerous, not because of the enemy he was about to face, but because he genuinely didn't know if he'd survive even a few days alone with this woman, this beautiful woman that had turned his entire world upside down.

Vegeta didn't know who or what he was anymore, but whether he was an evil overlord, or simply a half-redeemed failure of a warrior, one thing was for sure: he couldn't deny her request.

He owed this woman, who had given him as much as she could and more, the small request she was asking for.

So, even though every rational fiber of his being told him that this was a bad idea, he couldn't help the words that escaped his mouth…

“Get dressed, woman. We're leaving tonight.”