Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ A DRAGONBALL HONEYMOON ❯ Road Trip ( Chapter 1 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

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A DRAGONBALL HONEYMOON © 2003 Darke Angelus
Chapter One ~ ROAD TRIP


"-Loooove is a flower with petals of gooold,
It sways with the wind for lovers to behooold.
Loooove is a star so twinkling and briiight,
Staring from the heavens with its godly siiight.
Loooove-"

"Enough of that shit," Vegeta said and shut the radio off.

Betraying a wounded sound, Bulma turned in the passenger seat to
confront him. "Why did you do that? It's a beautiful song."

"The guy sounds like a castrated eunuch," Vegeta growled,
slouching back in his seat with his arms crossed. He was presently
glowering at the car in front of him and having a poor time ignoring
the persistent beeps of the other cars that enveloped them on all
sides.

Bulma fanned herself with a magazine and accepted the Saiyan's
ill-tempered explanation. She was really too hot to argue. So far they
had been a married couple for less than four hours and nothing was
going as planned. They had made a quick clothes change after the
ceremony and had hoped to beat rush-hour traffic. They were ambushed by
the staff as they tried to leave and dragged into a party led by an
ecstatic Charles McNeal. Somehow, the eccentric scientist had found out
about the secret marriage and told everyone in Research and
Development. Due to his innovative designs, Vegeta was held in the
highest regard by the department and he and Bulma had little choice but
to endure toast after toast that praised their union. The party finally
began to wind down when Charles, drunk beyond belief, began to complain
about why he hadn't been chosen as Vegeta's best man. Before a brawl
ensued, the pair finally managed to escape and begin their first
official adventure as husband and wife.

They had made perhaps three miles from home before they became
stuck in gridlocked out-bound traffic. The top and both doors were off
of Vegeta's jeep and the sun was beating down mercilessly. The air
conditioner was running full blast but the cold air it provided quickly
evaporated in the muggy heat.

"If we were in one of my cars, we'd at least be waiting in
relative comfort," Bulma groused. Vegeta had insisted on taking his
out-dated vehicle because he was THE MAN and wanted to do all the
driving.

"Well, you can't very well pop a capsule here. There's barely
enough room to breathe. Get used to it."

"Easy for you to say, you're immune to the heat."

Vegeta flashed her an irritated glare. He was wearing a black
tank top and loose jeans that should have been attracting the sun's
rays but he didn't appear to notice. In truth, he was actually damned
uncomfortable but it had nothing to do with the heat and she knew it.
He glanced at the dashboard clock for the fifth time in ten minutes and
slammed his palm against the steering wheel in frustration.

"Take it easy. Traffic will start moving soon enough," Bulma told
him calmly.

"You said that thirty minutes ago!" he snapped. "Why the hell
couldn't we have spent the night at Capsule Corp. and just leave in the
morning? This doesn't make any damned sense!"

"I am NOT going to consummate our marriage in my parent's house!"
she said in a hard voice. "I made reservations at the hotel in the next
city for a reason."

"A fat lot of good that's doing us right now," he grumbled,
glancing at her sidelong. Bulma was wearing a silk-knit halter dress
that was quickly becoming see-through the more she perspired. As she
shifted uncomfortably in her seat, the short hem of the dress pulled up
to her thigh before she readjusted it.

The mere glance of her flesh was just too much. In one desperate
move Vegeta leapt on top of her, straddled the passenger seat, and
began groping her body as he kissed her. In the car beside them, a
mother took one look at the scene and tried to cover the eyes of her
curious six-year old. Behind them, a bunch of college students crammed
into a Mini were beeping their encouragement. Obviously, it wasn't long
before they became the center of attention.

"Are you crazy? Knock it off!" Bulma yelled, swatting at him with
the magazine.

"I can't wait anymore," he panted raggedly. Pulling open the top
of her dress, he managed one lick at her nipple before she kicked him
off.

Blushing furiously, Bulma pulled her top closed and tried to
disappear in her seat. "You can wait a few more hours."

"I've been waiting long enough!" he bellowed.

That was the truth. To lend more 'punch' to their wedding night,
Bulma had cut him off three weeks before the ceremony. She said that it
was a popular choice among couples that had been living together for an
extended period. Vegeta just thought it was cruel and unusual
punishment for a crime he hadn't committed. The moment he had first
laid eyes on her in that flowing white wedding dress he had started
getting aroused. That wasn't something easily concealed in the spandex
he had worn and it had taken all of his mental willpower not to look
like a pervert in front of Bulma's family and the minister. Once in his
street clothes, it wasn't so obvious but he had been sporting a half-
hard erection ever since they had finally escaped Capsule Corp. Right
now, however, there wasn't anything half-assed about it. He was at full
attention and nearly stark-raving crazy with lust. Trapped in the close
confines of the jeep he could actually smell her womanhood and he
started to visibly shake.

"Vegeta-" she reached out towards him.

"Don't touch me! Not unless you're prepared to start something
you intend to finish," he growled, recoiling away from her. He was
close to snapping and knew from past experience no amount of spectators
would distract him from his purpose once he got started. During his
days of hanging with Radditz and Nappa, there had been times when
having sex had been a public sport. As Bulma shifted position, he
caught wind of her heady woman-scent and had to jump out of the jeep.

"Where are you going?!" she asked in alarm.

"To find out what's holding up the bloody traffic."

"...Looking like that?" She was pointing to the front of his
jeans and the obvious bulge outlined against his left thigh.

Too aggravated to form words, he released a sound like a hiss and
fazed out of sight. There were some startled exclamations by the people
who had been watching them and Bulma was grateful when they went back
to talking among themselves. Truth to tell, she was just as sexually
frustrated as Vegeta felt and was eager to feel him inside of her. But
certainly not here!

Every chance that she got, she stared at the ring on her left
hand and had to touch it to assure herself that it was real. The huge
diamond that Vegeta had given her was currently in the hands of a
master jeweler who was cleaning and faceting it. At her request, the
jeweler had cut off a 2-carat segment, given it an exclusive Asscher
cut, and set it in a platinum band that was now her wedding ring. It
was the most special, most beautiful thing she had ever owned in her
life.

Just a few more hours, she thought longingly as she began fanning
herself again with the battered magazine. In a few short hours we'll
finally get to make love as husband and wife. How romantic is that?

She won't let me screw her, Vegeta was thinking at the precise
moment as he was crouched in a nearby ditch. How fucked-up is that?

So far, his impression of marriage was poor and it didn't look to
be improving anytime soon. If someone had taken the time to explain
precisely what he was getting himself into, he never would have dug for
the rock that had put this whole mess into motion: Three weeks of
perplexing celibacy, her parents acting even weirder than normal,
getting dressed up into costumes for a boring sermon that had lasted
all of ten minutes. These humans were crazy!

What confused him the most was the platinum band that encircled
the third finger of his left hand. Bulma wore a gaudier version that
had a piece of the diamond he had given her. She explained that wearing
the items symbolized their union. To Vegeta, it suggested that they
were mutual property. He wasn't about to sacrifice his hard-won
independence just so that he wear the equivalence of a dog collar. They
continued to argue over the issue right up until the day before the
ceremony. Bulma relented that he wear his wedding band only until they
had collected all of the Dragonballs and made the wish. No longer. He
probably would have said no even to that compromise but he was bored to
death with the ridiculous topic. He agreed simply to shut her up.

Or was it something else? The more he looked at the odd object on
his hand, the less it bothered him. Bulma had the jeweler engrave the
ring with the royal crest of Vegetasei and the sight of that design
offered perplexing comfort. It should have been a symbol of loss but it
seemed to have become one that promised a fresh start. For him. For
what the Vegeta line had become. For his son. And his wife...

"Bulma," he murmured. The woman had a hold on him, that much was
for certain but he couldn't deny the truth that his life had improved
as a result. He was now a wealthy man in his own right, associated with
this planet's most influential businesswoman. The wealth and power that
the Briefs wielded made them equal to any royalty in the universe.
Being extremely conscious of class and social status, Vegeta concluded
that the sole reason Bulma was allowed a place in his dark heart was
simply because: She was WORTHY.

She was also one hell of an exciting piece of ass, which was why
he was currently hiding in this filthy ditch. The traffic still hadn't
moved and neither had his throbbing manhood. Out of desperation, he
unzipped his fly and it took scarcely two pumps before he ejaculated
into the dirt. It was a waste but at least he could walk among
civilians again and not look like a circus freak. It took the edge off
of his anxiety too, if only until he got into the jeep again. Zipping
himself back up, he climbed up to the highway and decided to isolate
the cause of the traffic jam.

A half a kilometer away, a 22-wheeler had jack-knifed to avoid a
fender bender and overturned, completely blocking traffic on both
sides. Both news and police helicopters were hovering over the scene,
while a crew of police and fire fighters mingled uselessly around,
trying to figure out what to do.

"Hey," Vegeta said, materializing behind one chubby cop. "What's
the hold up?"

The officer gave him a startled double take. Curious onlookers
were told to stand several meters away behind the accident tape and
orange pylons. How the hell had this guy slipped through without
anybody noticing? "You're not allowed to be here-"

"Don't you tell me what I'm allowed to do. Get that piece of shit
off the road."

Rolling his eyes, the cop shook his head in dismay. There always
had to be at least one asshole in every crowd and this day seemed to be
no exception. "We called for a crane to be flown in. It'll take about
two hours to get here."

"I can't wait that long! Move it now!"

"How?" The cop decided to humor him. "What do you expect me to
do? Pick it up myself?"

"Not you, lardass," Vegeta growled and stomped over to where the
rig and its overloaded box were lying on its side. Still wearing that
tolerant expression on his wide face, the chubby cop waved away his
buddies who were moving in to intercept him. "Ah, let him take a look.
Maybe it'll shut him up," he told his partner in a smug tone.

It took perhaps Vegeta all of a few seconds to see what needed to
be done. He called over to the large officer, "Where do you want me to
move it?"

"Is this guy for real?" his partner chuckled.

"What is he, five feet tall?" commented another. "Hell, my ten
year old kid is bigger than him."

"Oh, this is rich," the fat cop said. He gestured to the left of
the highway and instructed, "Throw it as far away as you can! Right
over into that field! Ah heck, why not into the next state while you're
at it?"

Everyone was starting to laugh and Vegeta's earlier agitation
returned with a vengeance. "You've got it," he snarled through clenched
teeth. He sank his fingers into the heavy steel to get a firm grip and
flung the entire tractor-trailer into the sky as hard as he could. The
massive rig went flying end-over-end and quickly disappeared out of
sight. Not long after that, a small mushroom cloud appeared on the
horizon where the unfortunate vehicle finally impacted with the ground.

Nobody was laughing anymore. Vegeta sauntered over to the where
the fat cop was still pointing at the side of the road. Slapping him on
one round cheek to get his attention, the Saiyan said, "I just did your
job now go do yours. Get this traffic moving!"

The gathered crowd of witnesses were applauding and cheering but
when the helicopters started to swing around, Vegeta decided that it
was time to make himself scarce. He fazed out of sight with that
uncanny speed of his, leaving the stunned cops and firefighters to
stare at the skid marks on the asphalt that was the only sign anything
had ever been there.

"So... uh, how're we gonna explain this one, Ralph?" the chubby
cop's partner finally spoke up.

Ralph could only offer a one-armed shrug.

"What did you do?" Bulma asked when Vegeta appeared beside the
jeep and climbed back into the driver's seat. Everyone else had left
their own vehicles and were standing on the side of the road watching
the fading tendrils of smoke from the distant explosion.

"If it gets us moving, who cares?" he countered.

"I care. You promised that you'd keep a low profile."

"No, what I promised was that I wouldn't blow up anymore cities-
At least not until we wish back the one I already erased. That's the
whole point of this ridiculous trip."

Bulma backed down and shelved the criticism for the time being.
The Saiyan was a little calmer than when he had left and she didn't
want to provoke him. "Thank you," she said instead.

He looked at her warily, expecting her usual sarcasm but she only
added, "For speeding up the wait. The sooner we check-in at the hotel
the better."

It was the right thing to say. Vegeta's eyes narrowed into a
mischievous squint and he smirked at her. It was the first time he had
smiled since that morning. "Got that right," he said in a husky purr,
giving her body a thorough look from ankle to neck and back down again.
Running his tongue slowly along his teeth, he finally assured her, "By
the time I'm through with you, you won't even be able to remember your
own name."

"... oh," she breathed, feeling the hairs on her arms and the
back of her neck prickle and rise. When he looked at her like that, it
always excited her. She had always been attracted to danger and here
was the living embodiment of it, sitting barely two feet away.

Leaning towards him eagerly, her pursed lips invited his mouth,
and Vegeta accepted the offer without hesitation. Their kiss was a long
and industrious fusing of lips and tongues, their teeth scraping
lightly as they sought an even closer contact in the confined space.
Bulma cupped his groin and kneaded her fingers into the denim and he
responded by sliding one free hand slowly up her inner thigh. She
moaned her encouragement to that touch, spreading her legs. Her panties
were already damp and her clitoris was vibrating with exquisite
tremors. One stroke of his finger and she would go off like a rocket.
Almost there... so close... oh! That's it! Right there! Touch me right-

An air horn blasted off beside them and the pair jumped in shock.
They looked around, dazed, and noticed for the first time that the
traffic was finally moving.

"Of all the piss-poor timing," Bulma grumbled under her breath
while Vegeta fumbled with the keys and got the jeep started. Struggling
with his composure, the Saiyan almost ripped out the gearshift as he
rammed it into first and got them moving. All that little make-out
session accomplished was make them both hot and bothered and his
erection was back, harder than ever. He was tempted to just encapsulate
the jeep and fly them quickly to their next destination but Bulma
insisted that they search for the damned balls 'the old fashioned way'.
Whatever the hell that meant. All that he knew for certain was that if
he upset her now, he might as well go back to whacking off in the
ditch. "How long?"

She knew what he meant. "We should be at the hotel in four
hours."

Gunning the engine he promised her, "We'll be there in three."

They traveled along the coastline, heading east on a busy stretch
of road that was clogged with tourists, cyclists, and other slow-moving
sightseers. Vegeta wove the jeep in and out of the traffic like he was
in a race against time (and in some ways he was- Bulma's smell of
arousal was starting to affect him again). He passed on double-lines,
around blind curves, and more than once darted around vehicles using
the right-hand shoulder, spraying gravel as the jeep's large tires spun
for purchase. Buckled into her seat, Bulma was screaming with each
dangerous maneuver but it wasn't out of fear. She had always been a
speed junky and thrived on taking risks. Vegeta wasn't doing anything
that she hadn't done in her own car. If anything, he was actually more
cautious. "Oh- This is GREAT! WHEEE!"

"Woman, you are insane," Vegeta told her but he was having as
much fun as she was. Forcing her eyes away from the swiftly passing
sights, Bulma took the opportunity to give him a thorough, loving
appraisal. It had taken some time for his system to shake the after-
affects of Frieza's poison but he appeared to have finally made a full
recovery. He had gained back all of his weight and his muscle tone was
once more the epitome of physical perfection. The only thing that was
any reminder of that terrible time was that his hair still wasn't its
unruly length that he favored. Privately, Bulma liked the way it looked
and the way that it seemed to ease the harshness of his features. At
least he no longer tried to hide it under a baseball cap anymore. "I
love you, Vegeta."

"Uh huh," he muttered, but passed her an endearing little smirk
that made her giggle in delight. That moment lasted until a state
trooper drove by and immediately did a U-turn to begin pursuit.

"Uh oh," the pair mouthed together, sharing one comical look.
Then Vegeta put his foot on the gas pedal all the way to the floor and
seriously began darting in an out of the heavy traffic as the cruiser
steadily closed in. This time when Bulma screamed, it wasn't out of
excitement but pure terror.

"What do you think you're doing? Pull over!" Bulma shouted,
gripping the sides of her seat with panicky fingers. "You can't outrun
that police car. What's a little ticket for speeding?"

"Hnh. Look in the glove compartment."

She pressed the latch and an explosion of papers burst out of the
small space, snatched by the wind. She snagged a handful and saw that
the majority of them were old speeding tickets from the time he had
been living in Pitch. There were also more recent tickets from his
driving in the Western Capital. "Parking tickets. That's not
surprising- I have a few of them myself but... 'Verbally harassing a
police officer'," Bulma was reading a few of the others she found,
"'Failure to yield', 'Running a stop light', 'Hitting a pedestrian'?
Vegeta, you hit someone with the jeep?"

"I just nudged his ass with the bumper. The old geezer wasn't
moving fast enough."

"Oh crap." She slammed the compartment closed and tried to come
up with a solution. She was drawing a rare blank. "Vegeta, this is
getting serious! Why didn't you tell me before we drove off?"

"I didn't think it was important. The tickets aren't in my name,"
he told her with surprising calm in his voice. She took another look at
one of the scraps that had fluttered to the floor and sure enough, it
had the name of the dead soldier whose identity Vegeta had adopted for
a short time.

"Not important? They're going to haul your ass into jail when
they catch you!"

Vegeta released an amused chuckle. "That'll never happen. Hold
on."

"Why? What are you-" She released a squeal as the Saiyan cut
across the front of a car he had been passing and headed straight for
the guardrail. Beyond that flimsy barricade was a sheer cliff that
dropped about eighty feet into pounding ocean surf and Vegeta was
heading straight for it. "You're crazy!"

"You wouldn't have me any other way," he said with a broad grin
and smashed through the wood at top speed. They disappeared over the
cliff edge in a spray of shattered wood, gravel, and one resounding
shriek that was actually louder than the police cruiser siren. When the
state trooper slammed on the brakes and ran over to the edge, there was
no sign of the suicidal couple. He ran back to his car to call for
Search and Rescue.

Out of sight around the bluff, Vegeta had easily deposited the
jeep back onto the road and was currently inspecting it for damage.
Seated in the passenger seat, Bulma was trying to drink from a water
bottle and it took both of her hands to steady it enough to get the lip
of the container to her mouth. "Th-that... was... nuts."

"Bah. We got away, that's all that matters," he said, frowning at
what he discovered. The bumper was dented, which wasn't a big deal but
a goodly chunk of guardrail had gone through the front grill and
perforated the radiator. "Shit," he said in disgust, watching the
radiator fluid pour to the ground in a heavy cloud of steam.

"Well, that puts this vehicle out of commission," Bulma said as
she came up beside him.

"Can't you fix it?"

"What-? I don't have any parts of this out-dated piece of junk-"

"Watch it!" he warned her. "I happen to like this 'out-dated
piece of junk'. It has character, not like those brightly colored,
hover-car abominations everyone drives. I've spent a lot of time in
this jeep. It's mine."

She gave him a startled glance at the rare admission. Aside from
the gravity simulator, there weren't many other things that Vegeta
really thought of as a valued possession. There was very little that
she knew about what he had gone through when he had moved to Pitch. Too
sick to fly, he'd had to learn how to operate this vehicle in order to
drive across the country and come to Trunks aid. She imagined that as
he drove that lonely distance, he had spent many long hours thinking in
this very jeep. "We'll encapsulate it for now," she said in a softer
voice. "I'll fix it when we get back home."

"Can you?"

"I think so, yes."

He nodded once and stepped around to the back bumper and pressed
the switch beneath the left brake light. In a cloud of smoke, the
battered jeep disappeared, instantly condensed into a small capsule
that he picked up and put in his back pocket. "I'll fly us the rest of
the way."

Bulma had been rummaging through her purse for her own car
capsule. "I told you before; there will be no cheating on this trip,"
she said in a hard voice as she pulled it out. "We're using Earth
vehicles, no ki."

"!!AGHH!!" Vegeta stormed a short distance away, grappled
unsuccessfully with his rage, and angrily came stomping back. "What is
it with this stupid obsession of yours? If we did things my way, we
could gather the stupid Dragonballs in a couple of days. Why do you
want to drag out this torture?"

"Torture?" she asked in a wounded voice. "You're calling our
honeymoon 'torture'? HOW DARE YOU! I took two weeks off from work- time
that I really can't spare from the company- just so that we could spend
this time together. You should be flattered."

He snorted. "Why?"

Rolling her eyes, she continued, "Because I want this time with
you with no distractions: No damned gravity simulator training, no
battle on the horizon, no life-threatening illness. For the very first
time, we're together as husband and wife. I don't think you've absorbed
the significance of that commitment, Vegeta. Things are no longer the
way they were. We're a part of each other's lives from this day on."
She paused for a moment to compose her thoughts and then yelled at him:
"So we ARE going to take the ENTIRE two weeks to hunt for the
Dragonballs whether you LIKE it or NOT!"

His face flushed alarmingly and she knew she had gone to far when
that telltale vein popped out on his temple. For one long moment, the
pair glared at one another and of the two, it was Bulma who finally
dropped her eyes first. "I-I knew it was too much to ask-"

"Oh, stop your whining and pop the damn capsule already. We're
wasting time," he snarled.

She gave one startled blink and broke out into a hopeful smile.
"You-you mean...?"

"We'll do things your way," he said and dropped his voice to a
low growl as he added, "For now."

"Oh, thank you, Vegeta!" she cried happily, depressing the switch
and throwing the capsule over her shoulder as she continued to gush;
"You won't regret it. We're going to have a wonderful adventure
together. It'll be just like the old days when I was a teenager and set
out on my own to search for the Dragonballs the very first time. That
was when I first met G-"

"What." he interrupted her. "The fuck. Is that?" He was pointing
to the vehicle that had materialized behind her.

Bulma whirled and was shocked not to see her souped-up sports
car. In its place was a small, pink moped with flowers painted on the
front fender and a little wire basket perched between the handlebars.
"That's Daisy. Mom uses her for local errands."

"What the hell are you doing with that thing?"

She looked into her purse in confusion. "I must have grabbed the
wrong capsule before we left. Everything was so hectic I didn't think
to stop to check. My spare capsule packet is packed away with the rest
of my luggage."

"Well, you better unpack it. I'm not getting on that," he said
harshly. He had never wished for a brightly colored, hover-car
abomination so much in his entire life.

She looked him in frustration. "I packed enough clothes, gear,
and accessories for two weeks. Do you have any idea how long that will
take to sort through?"

"I'm prepared to wait."

"Well, I'm not," she sniffed and hiked up her dress and straddled
the seat of the moped. She might have relented and searched though her
belongings for the packet until the Saiyan copped the attitude. Now it
was a battle of wills. She picked up the helmet lying in the basket and
put it on, then turned the key to the ignition. Daisy's tiny engine
sounded like a cross between a sewing machine and a weed eater. "Get
on, Vegeta. We'll be in Carterville in less than an hour."

Vegeta wasn't moving. He shook his head once. "Not a chance."

"Fine. I'll meet you there!" she yelled back and sped off in a
cloud of blue smoke accompanied by one loud backfire of protest. After
about twenty meters down the road, she slowed and looked back. She
wasn't surprised to see that the Saiyan was gone.

"Stubborn ass," she grumbled, pulling onto the road again and
coaxing the moped up to it's top speed (which was about 60 kilometers
an hour). Daisy shuddered, backfired, and wearily accelerated but the
little engine sounded like it was sobbing. Ignoring this, Bulma kept
her eyes on the road, which was starting to blur through a veil of
bitter tears. This was supposed to be her special day, dammit! Nothing
was going right! She wiped her eyes with a curse and squeezed the
handlebars in a deathgrip. How DARE Vegeta abandon her like this? When
she saw him again-

Dropping out of the sky, Vegeta landed squarely in place behind
her causing Daisy to pop a wheelie. It took all of Bulma's driving
ability to get the front tire back down before they were thrown onto
the road. "Dammit, Vegeta! You could give a little warning the next
time you do that."

"Whatever."

"I thought that you were too macho to be seen on this thing," she
snapped over her left shoulder. "What changed your mind?"

There was a sly look on his face that immediately placed her on
guard. "Male prerogative. I considered the benefits."

"Oh yeah? And what are those?"

He gave no answer but his arms encircled her and his hands
immediately cupped her breasts- and showed no sign of releasing them
anytime soon.

"Vegeta- let go. Those aren't airbags!" she cried indignantly.

His lips fastened on the soft skin of her neck before he nibbled
playfully on her earlobe. "I would suggest," he rasped into her ear as
he began rubbing himself against her, "that you get this piece of junk
up to its top speed."

She could feel his erection pressing into the small of her back
and her nipples hardened beneath his squeezing hands. "O-okay," she
agreed and twisted the accelerator. Daisy backfired again and made a
sound like a wheezing cough, but she wearily obeyed. Scarcely able to
focus on the road as Vegeta fondled her body, Bulma noticed for the
first time that the fuel gauge was close to empty. "Oh mom..." she
sighed.

"What's wrong now?"

"We're almost out of gas. I'll have to pull in at the next
service station."

"Yes, of course you will..." she heard him grumble behind her and
she was almost disappointed when he dropped his hands. On such a
heavily traveled road, it wasn't long before a gas station came into
sight and Bulma steered towards one of the pumps. Vegeta jumped off
before they had reached a full stop and immediately headed for the
Men's restroom. She didn't bother calling out to him and embarrass him
further, knowing where he was going and why. She was giggling when she
picked up the nozzle and filled up the tank.

He rejoined her just as she was paying the attendant. "That was
quick."

Scowling, he snarled, "You don't say that to a man. Ever."

"Oh, I was just kidding," she said, kissing him. He didn't
respond to the gesture and she knew from experience that her apology
was definitely NOT accepted. She was going to suggest that they go
inside the adjoining restaurant and grab an early supper when a man
pulled up beside of them, gunning the engine. Leaning out of the window
of his large truck, he sneered, "Hey, that's one hell of a chopper that
you've got there, fella! Wanna drag race?"

"Get lost," Bulma shouted back.

"Why don't you ditch the runt, sweetheart? Let a real man take
you for a ride!" He sped off in a squeal of tires, doing a donut in
front of them and dangerously coming close to hitting Daisy. As he sped
away Vegeta released a snarl and before Bulma could stop him, the
Saiyan flicked a destructo disk the size of a dime from his right hand.
It flew up into the air intake pipe of the truck and promptly exploded
in the gas tank. Both doors flew off of the vehicle, and the engine was
immediately reduced to smoldering slag. It skidded along the pavement
in a shower of sparks before slowing to a halt several meters away.

Still gripping the steering wheel, the driver found himself
sitting in a cloud of smoke. "What the hell-?" he asked in disbelief.

"Two times in less than a day. Sonsabitches." Vegeta was
positively frothing in his rage and started across the parking lot to
finish what he had started.

Bulma ran in front of him. "It's okay. No harm was done. Leave
him alone, Vegeta."

"I'm sick and tired of the fucking short jokes!" he yelled at
her. "I was never meant to be this size. It's not my fault!"

She was completely taken aback by the outburst. "Wha-what are you
talking about? I've never said anything-"

"Not you." He was glaring daggers at the driver who was wandering
around his demolished truck like a man stuck in a bad dream. People
were starting to wander over and ask the flustered man what had
happened. "Them. No better than fodder for a Galactic Gun. All of them.
It would be so easy..." His right hand clenched into a tight fist and
began glowing an ominous blue.

Gooseflesh broke out on both of her arms. She hated it when he
spouted that doomsday talk and had never realized that he was so
sensitive about his height. It wasn't something that he had ever
betrayed before. She catalogued the incident to be thoroughly analyzed
later, when there wasn't the threat of a body count looming on the
horizon. "They're not worth it. This is our wedding day. Don't spoil it
for me, Vegeta. Please? Let's just get going."

Vegeta showed no sign of budging. He continued to glare at the
driver with concentrated hatred. It seemed to be a long time before he
finally dropped his black gaze to hers. Bulma's blue eyes were wide
with entreaty and it took some visible effort for him to finally turn
his back on the growing crowd. "You just saved their lives," he coldly
informed her and marched back to Daisy.

Lingering back, Bulma cast a quick glance at the innocent people
and forced down a tremor of momentary fear. Had she thought that she
actually had control over Vegeta? It was a flimsy tether at best and
almost useless when he was provoked, as she was quickly discovering.
She was almost tempted to just relent and let him search for the
Dragonballs his way.

"No," she said to herself. When she looked back, she saw that
Vegeta was back sitting on Daisy without argument. That simple action
spoke volumes to her. I can't force him to do anything he doesn't want
to. Nobody could, she realized. He's here because he wants to be. He's
enduring these constant setbacks because he wants to stay near me. Am I
really going to give up on that rare opportunity? "No," she said again.
"I'm not giving up. I love him. He's my... husband," that last word
suffused her with fresh hope and strengthened her resolve.

As she returned to the moped to continue their journey into
Carterville, there was a distinct trill from her purse.

"I thought you shut off that phone," Vegeta said peevishly.
Bulma's mother had started calling them practically the minute they had
left Capsule Corp. and Bulma had turned it off to give them some peace.

"That's not my cellphone, it's the Dragonball radar," she said as
she pulled it out and read the dial. Her eyes widened in alarm. "The
Dragonball I'd located- It... it's moving."

"What?"

"The reason I chose Carterville first was because that was where
the closest Dragonball lied. I figured that we could go to our hotel
room and collect it at our leisure when we were... y'know, through,"
she blushed. "Now, though, it's moving out of the city limits."

"So what?" Vegeta said in a bored tone of voice. "As a single
unit it's no good to anyone and they're almost impossible to destroy.
Let's just get to the hotel. We'll track it down tomorrow," his
previous pout dissolved into a lopsided-smirk, "Or the day after that."

"Aren't you even curious about who has it or why?"

"No," came the predictable answer. "I'm more curious about what
you've got on under that dress. Or, more importantly, what you
haven't."

"Vegeta!" She crossed her arms deliberately over her breasts as
his eyes roved eagerly over them. "I won't be able to relax knowing
someone else might have their grubby hands on that Dragonball. We have
to track it down right now."

Vegeta's face darkened with the appearance of this new roadblock.
His mind immediately translated 'won't be able to relax' correctly into
'won't spread my legs'. His nerves were worn raw from all of these
cockteasing delays and the hand-to-gland sessions were only making
things worse. He was starting to wonder if she really did want him to
screw her or if this was all just a convenient act to delay their
coupling.

"How about it, Vegeta?" she prompted when his usual silence
stretched on. "Are we still a team?"

This bullshit has to be some sort of twisted test, he brooded. He
was no stranger to them; Frieza and his goons had always been trying to
find some new way to get him to screw up. Some had evaluated his
endurance, while others had measured his skills. The ones requiring
patience had been the absolute worst and that looked to be what he was
currently stuck in. It had to be another part of the ceremony to gauge
if he was truly worthy of her.

"...Vegeta?" a note of worry crept into her voice.

His shoulders slumped. He knew that he was a living magnet for
bad luck, but this day just had to be the worst in recent memory. "Yes,
woman. We're a... team."

Whooping in happiness, she hopped onto Daisy like she was jumping
on the back of a bronco. "I love you, Vegeta!"

"Yeah, yeah," he said unconvincingly.

"Always the tough guy," she sighed, fastening on her helmet. As
she turned the ignition, she cried out: "Giddy-up Daisy!"

Daisy responded with a backfire loud enough to turn heads. The
pair sped away in a cloud of blue smoke and pulled back onto the road.
As Bulma coaxed the little moped up to its full speed, she was
wondering if Vegeta was seriously angry with her. Just as she was about
to pull over and ask him, his hands came around her and grabbed her
breasts again. This time she didn't try to pull them off.

As they closed in on Carterville, Vegeta took the opportunity to
absorb the sights, which wasn't something he usually did. Conquering
planets had been a means to an end and evaluating the aesthetics of the
surroundings had been considered frivolous. As near as he could tell,
Earth seemed to be a complex world of varying climates and landmarks
that seemed to change with alarming regularity. He had never been on
any world long enough to experience the steady progression of seasons
and his recollections of Vegetasei were, sadly, quite poor. Even after
his extended time on this world, he was beginning to realize that he
had hardly scratched the surface in witnessing all that the planet had
to offer.

Two weeks, he thought, nuzzling the back of Bulma's neck and
relishing her scent. Maybe it won't be so bad-

Daisy hit a pothole and wobbled before Bulma got the steering
under control.

... then again...

"We're almost near it," Bulma called to him. She had the
Dragonball radar perched in the basket and was dividing her
concentration between it and the road. "Be on your guard and keep your
eyes peeled."

"For what?"

"It could be anything!" she said with rising excitement. "It
could be a giant, or a fierce dragon trying to take the Dragonball back
to its nest. It could be a troop of Red Ribbon soldiers or some more
androids, or-"

"-Or it could be a pair of rednecks in a pick-up truck," she
heard Vegeta comment. Sure enough, a battered old truck passed them and
in the back, perched on top of a pile of old scavenged parts and junk,
was the four-star Dragonball.

"Oh," Bulma said in disappointment.

"Glad I came along," Vegeta snickered from behind her. "You're
going to need me to defend you against those evil villains."

Purposely ignoring him, Bulma waved frantically as she tried to
attract the driver's attention but it was no use. The truck was
gradually pulling ahead. "They don't see me!"

"You are pathetic," Vegeta sighed and flicked another disk from
his fingers. Fortunately this one was weak and only blew out the
vehicle's back left tire. Lurching out of control for a few seconds,
the driver quickly slowed down and managed to get it safely over to the
side of the road. The pair got out and inspected the flat as Bulma
pulled up behind them. "Are you guys alright?" she called out.

The driver, an old pot-bellied farmer in rubber boots, was
scratching his head. "I dunno what we hit. The blasted tires are almost
brand new. But, yeah, we're okay."

Bulma cast a sullen glare at Vegeta who continued his self-
righteous smirking. "I'll handle this."

"Call me if you need back-up," he said and started chuckling to
himself when she slammed the helmet into the basket in frustration.

She fluffed up her hair and smoothed out the wrinkles in her
dress and, after a quick check in the moped's mirror to ensure that her
make-up wasn't smeared, walked slowly over to the befuddled pair.
Vegeta knew what the outcome was going to be even before the farmer
gave Bulma the Dragonball with no questions asked. The dress she was
wearing left little to the imagination and when she put her mind to it,
no man could resist her.

Including me, Vegeta reluctantly admitted. When she came
strutting back holding her prize, he found it hard to ignore the depth
of his feelings for her. They went beyond mere lust and entered into
realms that he didn't know he even possessed. Trust. Admiration. Even
affection. Perhaps struggling amidst the shadows of his heart was even
that elusive L-word she liked to use so often.

Before he could betray too much of his thoughts, he clapped
slowly three times. "Bravo," he said flatly.

"See? There's still wonderful people on this world. I offered
them money and they wouldn't take a dime."

Vegeta suspected that her near see-through dress and excited
jiggling had been more than enough payment for the Dragonball. Still,
he couldn't deny the end result; it was in her possession and she was
happy. It was more than he could have hoped for with the way things
were going lately. "We're going to the hotel." It was not a question.

"Yes, we're going straight to the hotel," she said when she
secured the Dragonball in the basket. She hopped on the moped to face
him and grabbed a handful of his tank top, pulling him towards her. "I
can hardly wait to be alone with you," her words gusted warmly against
his face. "I am going to kiss you, taste you, and ride you. We're going
to make love all night long." Her lips closed over his and she kissed
him, doing a slow and thorough job of it. When they finally parted, she
nibbled playfully on his bottom lip. "What do you think of that,
lover?"

"I think maybe we should have gone for the stupid Dragonball
first," he said honestly. This sudden aggressiveness on her part was
entirely unexpected and a definite turn-on. He had never seen her like
this before; exhilarated, wanton, carefree. Away from Capsule
Corporation, she became a completely different person who thrived on
adventure and reveled in action. He was relieved to have endured the
test long enough to see this side of her. It made all of the
frustrations worth it.

Well... almost.

Turning in her seat, Bulma wasted no time starting Daisy and
speeding them towards their ultimate goal; The Majestic Regency Hotel
in Carterville. It was a turn-of-century landmark that was one of the
city's oldest, most influential resorts and lied on a jutting bluff
that presented an unrivaled view of the ocean. Bulma had reserved the
Honeymoon suite weeks in advance and had done it under a false name to
ensure that reporters not catch wind of her appearance and ruin their
peace. She wanted to travel in relative anonymity- partially because
she loathed the media, and also to spare Vegeta the additional stress
of dealing with obnoxious newshounds. In the few times that they had
been seen in the Capital together, there had always been some
shutterbug snapping their picture. As ever, there was a question mark
beside Vegeta's face when the picture ran the next day in the society
pages. Gossip was almost as important a commodity as wealth in Bulma's
elite circle and the Saiyan was a hot topic. She wanted to keep him all
to herself for as long as she could.

Vegeta didn't pay much attention to the checking-in process as
Bulma made small talk with the manager who presented her with the pass-
card to their room. He allowed himself to be mesmerized by the way her
body moved and had tuned out all other distractions with his usual
single-minded tenacity. There were going to be no more distractions
that were going to sway him from his intended goal. He was prepared to
plunder her ripe body right here in the lobby if he had too, in full
view of the staff and guests. He had waited far too long.

As if sharing his impatience, Bulma grabbed his hand and pulled
him over to the waiting elevator. As soon as the doors closed, she
melted against him with a grateful sigh while his hands slid down her
sides and pulled up the dress to her waist. She wriggled her tongue
between his teeth as her hand sought the prominent outline of his
erection, squeezing and rolling the throbbing shaft through the
material of his jeans. Neither had the clarity of mind to hit the stop
button and when the doors opened on their floor, they were blissfully
ignorant with their mutual fondling until someone released a subdued
cough.

An elderly couple was standing in the corridor, patiently waiting
to enter and the ardent newlyweds parted reluctantly. "Sorry," Bulma
offered as she pulled down her dress. She carefully positioned herself
between them and Vegeta as they left the elevator. "We just got married
today."

"Congratulations!" the woman beamed while her husband said
smoothly, "No apologies are necessary, dear. We couldn't wait for a bed
on our wedding night either."

"Harold!" the old woman squawked in horror.

"Well... it's true, isn't it? Remember that park bench-" the
elevator doors mercifully closed on the rest of the exchange. Casting
one another a perplexed glance, Bulma burst out laughing and led them
down the corridor to their suite.

"You have to carry me across the threshold," she said after she
unlocked the door and pushed it open. "It's tradition."

"Whatever," he said impatiently, too agitated to even waste
precious seconds for a debate. He scooped her up effortlessly and
charged through the door, kicking it closed after they entered.

When he set her down, Bulma immediately dropped to her knees
before him, fingers working the zipper to his jeans down and extracting
his engorged shaft.

Vegeta leaned back against the closed door, staring down at the
column of hardened flesh that reared outward from his open fly. Its
satin knob was aimed at the moist red lips of the sea-foam haired
beauty as she opened her mouth to claim him. Her slippery tongue began
its worshipful dance about the sensitive glans, circling and swirling
as she worked her lips up and down the thick roll.

It was impossible to resist the savage suction applied by her
straining cheeks. Bulma knew that he was close to climax when she felt
his lance swell and shudder inside her sucking mouth.

When Vegeta came, he gave only a faint grunt, and his thick
essence flooded her throat. She moaned under the onslaught, using her
lips to milk the throbbing meat, her tongue licking eagerly across the
slitted tip to gather the last delicious drop of his seminal offering.
"I have kissed you and tasted you," she said, planting a kiss on the
still-hard shaft before she got back to her feet. "Now I intend to ride
you, as promised."

Before Bulma, Vegeta had never allowed a woman to assume the
dominant position during sex and be on top. Over the months as their
relationship developed, he now found that he actually enjoyed it.
During the act, as she straddled his hips and set their pace, he liked
to imagine that this would be a position that a Saiyan woman would try
to assume. He didn't know for sure, and never would, but Bulma's
disposition and swift temper rivaled any Saiyan he had ever known and
made the fantasy that much more believable.

As they moved towards the large bedroom suite, there was a knock
on the door. "Complimentary champagne, courtesy of the Majestic
Regency," a voice called out.

"We'll get it later," Bulma was almost panting. "Damn it! I told
the front desk no interruptions."

"Ignore it," Vegeta encouraged, kicking his shoes off. He
unfastened the button to his jeans and slid them down his lean hips to
pull them off. He pulled his top up over his head and faced her,
completely nude. Bulma's gaze roved hungrily over the powerful muscles
of his chest, arms, and thighs. The part that made him an individual
was the thick length of manhood that arched upward from the base of his
slabbed stomach.

"Vegeta..." she murmured, urgently pressing her body against him.
"I love you so much."

"I know. You tell me that every ten minutes," he said,
unbuttoning the straps to her dress and letting it puddle down around
her ankles. All that was between them now was a delicate little thong.
Once he removed that irritating scrap of fabric, they could finally
experience paradise.

"I say it so often because I want you to understand," she said,
sighing as his fingers stroked the tingling nipples of her heaving
breasts. "You're now the only man in my life. The only person who I'll
ever make love to."

"I damn well hope so!"

"But it goes two ways. Do you understand that?"

He stared back at her, matching her earnest expression. She was
speaking about commitment and monogamy and trying to find a delicate
way to ask if he would honor that obligation. "I swore to an oath and
I'm a man of my word. 'For richer or poorer- In sickness and in
health'. Bulma Briefs, you are mine."

"And you're mine, Prince Vegeta," she whispered.

"'Until death do us part'," he promised and kissed her.




********************************************** ****
Chapter Two: The newlywed's meet up with some old... friends as the
search for the Dragonballs continues.