Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ A DRAGONBALL HONEYMOON ❯ Tropical Paradise ( Chapter 10 )

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

A DRAGONBALL HONEYMOON © 2006 Darke Angelus
Chapter 10: Tropical Paradise
------

Despite his weakened state, Vegeta got them as far as the Amazon
Basin in South America. Bulma had been to a great many exotic locations
in her relatively short life (some of those places hadn't even been on
Earth) but she was unprepared for the vivid spectacle of an unspoiled
Rainforest in its entire emerald splendor. All around them they were
enveloped by varying shades of green; from soft, spongy fungi at their
feet to the towering trees of the canopy overhead. It was a location of
such diversity and lushness that Bulma was momentarily cowed into
silence as she heard haunting calls from creatures she couldn't put
names to, and the melodic songs of brightly plumed birds. "It-it's
beautiful," she said in a hushed, reverent voice.

Vegeta regarded the surroundings with half-lidded eyes before his
legs finally gave out from underneath of him and he sank to the ground.
When Bulma immediately started fussing over him, he pushed her away. "I
just need to get some sleep. Go do... something," he gave an irritated
wave in the direction of the surrounding jungle and then laid his head
down on a pile of leaves. Within seconds, he was asleep.

"Always the tough guy," Bulma sighed and decided to heed his
advice. The area was an incredible tangle of ferns and mosses blanketing
every conceivable surface and she had to crane her head back at immense
trunks of the rainforest trees to try and get an impression of what time
of day it was. Nothing electronic had survived their Antarctic adventure
and her GPS watch had stopped at a time of 11:35 pm. If she got the
angle of the sun right, it was barely midmorning. That heartened her a
bit, knowing that she had plenty of daylight left to revel in this
exciting wilderness without the threat of darkness hovering in the
background.

There was great commotion in the canopy hundreds of feet above the
forest floor and Bulma didn't know how it was possible for the Saiyan to
sleep through the ruckus. Over the cries of birds and monkeys and
insects, she thought that she could detect the sound of running water.
Following the source, she discovered a tranquil grotto, walled in craggy
stone, with a waterfall spilling into a serene basin. There were large
rocks surrounding the water, the sort that would be perfect for
sunbathing. "Perfect!" she said with satisfaction and began removing the
many layers of clothing she had put on as a defense against the frigid
temperatures of the South Pole. They weren't necessary here, not by any
stretch of the imagination, and when she was done, all she had on were a
pair of panties and a halter-top.

She stepped carefully into the water, mindful of the rocky footing
and sighed with satisfaction as the wetness coated her body. It was
neither cold nor hot, but nicely temperate. This is just perfect, she
thought, sinking down into the water and swimming across the small pool
until she reached the rocks and hauled herself up. She climbed a short
distance until she found a long flat shelf that she thought would be
perfect for sunning and spread out upon it. It was warm and slightly
concave and a perfect fit for her body. She was astonished to discover
that she was also exhausted from all of the action of the past couple of
hours and her eyelids drooped with heaviness. Sparing a brief glance in
the direction where Vegeta was sleeping, she figured that they were safe
here and she succumbed to the darkness pulling at her limbs, dozing
under the warm sunlight in the middle of an exotic rainforest.

It wasn't a restful sleep by any means. As the sun moved along its
course in the sky, her resting spot became an area of deep shade and her
unconscious body tried to move itself to follow that reassuring light.
She had always been a restless sleeper, known for tearing up the
blankets and sheets as she tossed and turned around in the bed. Her
flailing legs had nailed Vegeta in the groin or kidneys more times than
he liked to count. It had been one of the primary reasons that they had
unanimously agreed upon a King-sized bed; to put some distance between
them so that he could sleep and she could flail around without injuring
anyone. Right now, as she slept, she thought that she was back home in
that huge bed and rolled over –

- and promptly fell off of her narrow perch and down into the pool
ten feet below.

"AGH! Damn it!" She was sputtering when she surfaced, clawing the
wet hair away from her face and casting an accusing glare up at the
ledge. How she hadn't managed to bean herself on one of those jagged
outcrops of rock was a miracle!

"What a sight to wake up to," a deep voice commented a short
distance away.

She turned and saw Vegeta leaning against a small tree, watching
her with that characteristic smirk on his face. He had stripped down to
a single pair of jogging pants and, while she continued to watch, he
pulled them down and stepped out of them and joined her in the water,
completely nude.

"I fell off of that ledge over there," she muttered, distracted by
the sight of him swimming in a lazy circle around her. His gaze was
intense and mysterious; it was like watching a predator sizing up its
prey before preparing an attack. Despite the warm water, she felt
gooseflesh break out all over her body. "One hell of a way to wake up."

"I'm sure."

"How did you sleep?"

"Fine," he commented, continuing to keep a steady eye on her as he
easily swam past and around her, never coming too close.

She tracked his progress with a wary eye. "You're acting weird,
Vegeta," she said in a suspicious tone.

"Am I?"

"Yes. You're freaking me out."

"Uhm, let's see what else I can do to you," he commented and dove
under the water, barely creating a ripple. Bare seconds later, she felt
a tickle on her ankle. Looking down she saw the Saiyan leisurely lying
on the bottom of the pool, eyeing her from between her legs and,
incredibly, still smiling. This kind of playful teasing was rare
behavior and Bulma decided to indulge him. She dropped her hands below
the surface and slowly slid her panties down over her hips, easily
sliding her legs out of fabric. With that done, she closed her eyes,
spread her legs and waited. A hand ran up her inner thigh and gently
cupped her throbbing sex, and teeth began lightly nipping her left
buttock. One finger slid into her easily while another flicked at her
nerve-filled center, making her arch her back and moan in pleasure.

That delightful friction, playful at first, became more determined
and Bulma began tugging on the fabric of her halter top with anxious
fingers. "Just like that... there," she was whispering, her eyes still
squeezed tightly closed in growing pleasure. "Right ...there, yesss. Oh
god! Yes!" She was close to a climax and her legs were shaking with
desire. Beneath the water, feather-soft kisses trailed over her buttocks
and lower back while fingers skillfully rubbed, and probed, and tickled.
She felt her inner walls clench down on the intrusive digit inside of
her and she gave voice to a throaty cry that momentarily silenced the
cacophonous jungle. Her back spasmed and she lost her footing and fell
backwards into the water, all coordination gone.

Vegeta surfaced and shook the heavy tangles of hair away from his
face and watched her as she tried to shake off the effects of her
climax. She stood up, sputtering and disheveled, her face flushed and
her nipples painfully erect beneath the nearly transparent halter-top.
"Oh... That was-was-"

"Fun," he finished for her, wearing a smug grin.

"I thought you didn't 'do' fun," she said, getting her breathing
under control and eyeing him shrewdly.

"I didn't do a lot of things before I met you."

"Oh?" She cocked her head to the side as he moved closer to her,
watching the rivulets of water that ran down his neck, pooling in the
hollow of his collarbone before spilling down over his perfectly
sculpted chest. "Like what?"

He stared at her closely and then dropped his eyes to her breasts,
reaching beneath the clingy fabric to caress one full mound and teasing
the pert nipple with a daring finger. He leaned his head forward
slightly and licked her left ear, then ran his tongue down her jaw line
and then to her mouth. His lips smothered hers as he plunged his tongue
deeply inside, trying to taste every part of her luscious mouth. He
opened his eyes in mid-kiss, only to find hers staring right up at his,
burning in her passion. He broke away, breathless, saying, "Like this. I
never liked it, before. It was too intimate. But with you... I can't get
enough of how you taste, or smell, or-or-" he genuinely became lost for
words, his voice hoarse with emotion.

"Vegeta," she said wonderingly, searching his face for some sign
that they were just words he had just made up on the spot to ensure
their approaching intimacy, but he was blushing and that was how she
knew it was the truth. "I love you so much!" She reached up with both
arms and pulled his head down to hers, renewing the seal of their lips
that had been broken only seconds before. Vegeta relished in the
contact. He simply could not get enough of her hot mouth, the way her
tongue jousted with his own, the sweet sensual way that she tasted. They
kissed wildly, passionately, feeding on mutual lust and radiating desire
as their hands roamed all over each other's hot, wet skin and eventually
down to the juncture of each other's thighs.

She found him erect and began to caress and fondle the thick shaft
until she saw that telltale muscle jump in the corner of his jaw. It
meant that he was holding himself back with all of his self-control and
she didn't want him to waste that precious seed in the water. With a
skillful hand, she guided him past her soft folds and into the clasping
warmth of her sex, wrapping her legs around his, her ankles digging into
his calves as she squirmed and gyrated against him to get the maximum
penetration. For as long as a minute, they stood locked in that hot
embrace, their mouths straining, their tongues slashing, their hands
roaming as the emotions boiled over.

Finally, Vegeta waded out of the pool and found a spot of ground
nearby that was covered with wide jade-colored fronds over a natural bed
of soft moss. Their lovemaking began with a slow and measured rocking
back and forth but began to quickly intensify. The fleshy padding of her
buttocks cushioned his forceful thrusts, her writhing hips the only
thing between him and the earth. As he pounded away at her, he walked
his lips up her cheek and found her mouth, panting in her exertions.
Their kisses were fevered, touches were roughly tender, the two melded
into one, each feeling, giving and receiving pleasure. She fisted her
fingers in his thick hair and took as much from his mouth as he took
from hers, urging him on with breathless whimpers; Come, come, come...

Shortly after, they were back in the water again, washing off a
combination of sweat and dirt from their efforts on the jungle floor.
There was still a sign of that mischievous streak to the Saiyan as they
swam around in aimless circles, occasionally splashing one another.
Bulma climbed up to her earlier perch and executed a perfect swan dive.
Not to be outdone, he launched himself from the rock and executed two
swift flips before hitting the water. After that it became a diving
competition between the pair.

"Why do you even bother trying?" he called up to her as she got
into position on the sturdy ledge. "You know you can't compete against
me in anything athletic."

"At least I can try and give you a run for your money," she
shouted back.

"It's not a run, it's a waddle," he laughed.

"You ass!" She launched herself from the ledge and tried to
imitate one of his flips. She had nowhere near his flexibility or skill
and ended up doing a loud belly flop on the water, sinking like a rock.

Even Vegeta had to wince. "That had to hurt," he muttered under
his breath. When she didn't surface right away, his brow furrowed in
concern and he swam over to the spot where she fell. "Woman? Bulma!" He
looked quickly around and started to feel a familiar sensation of panic
until hands closed around his ankles and pulled him under.

He got away from that loose grip and fought to get back to the
surface, sputtering and cursing. "What the hell did you do that for?" he
yelled over to where Bulma had surfaced, laughing. "It isn't funny!"

"The look on your face-" she broke off into peels of laughter.

"Not funny at all," he growled and immediately began to swim to
the far side where their clothes lied in an untidy pile.

She intercepted him just as he was stepping out of the water. "I
was just joking around, Vegeta. No harm done. Alright?"

"How was I to know you weren't hurt?"

She considered the anger on his face and looked back to where they
had been diving. "You... thought that little fall hurt me? You were
worried?"

"It's another thing I didn't do until I met you," he grumbled
peevishly, crossing his arms.

"What, worry? About what?" Her eyes were searching his face again.
"About me?"

"You, the brat, us; it's all I ever do anymore," the crimson flush
of embarrassment was rising along his jaw line and entering his face
again. "I never had to worry about anything before, except saving my own
ass."

"Would you want to go back to that?"

"I-" The question caught him off guard. "No," he admitted.

She wrapped her arms around him and laid her head on his shoulder.
"This is all new to me too, you know. I was used to just traipsing
around the planet without a care in the world. Now I'm a mother, a wife,
and president of a company. It can all get a little overwhelming."

"That's putting it mildly."

"But we'll get through this together. That's what being married is
all about. We're not alone anymore. We're a team."

He pulled away from her a little. "I'm not exactly a team player."

"Our team has exclusive membership. It can only have two members,"
she tipped him a playful wink.

He had to smile despite himself. She had such a way of making him
see things in a unique perspective and calming him. When she pulled his
face back to meet her lips in a deep tongue-searching kiss, he didn't
resist her. He couldn't. When they parted his words gusted softly
against her face, "Bulma, you make me feel..."

"What, Vegeta?" She softly pressed her full lips to his brow,
kissing him gently, before moving down. Following the shape of his eyes,
the curve of his cheek, the outline of his jaw, and the angle of his
chin with her lips. She ran the tip of her tongue across his lower lip,
tracing the smooth contours before slowly sliding her tongue between
them again. "How do I make you feel?" she whispered into his mouth.

"Like-like-" His eyes opened a bare crack and suddenly widened in
alarm. "SHIT!"

Bulma whirled around and released a screech that would have
rivaled an adult Void Worm. Part of it was shock, but the other was pure
unadulterated rage that they been spied on this entire time and no one
had bothered to speak up and make their presence known earlier. "What
the hell are all of you doing here?!" she screamed.

Yamcha swallowed with difficulty and backed up into Tien,
Chiaotzu, and Piccolo, who were bringing up the rear. All four wore
identical expressions of shock and mortification as they tried to look
everywhere else except at the obviously naked and very angry heiress
standing right in front of them. Even the huge Namek wore a deeper
emerald hue than normal when he managed to find his voice; "We sensed an
immense ki from Vegeta. We thought that he might be in trouble."

"Bullshit," Vegeta snarled from the heavy brush and emerged
wearing a pair of sweatpants. Bulma gaped at him and actually glanced
behind her before registering that she was left all alone in the nude.
She dashed forward to grab and armload of clothes and streaked off into
a dense cover of ferns. "You thought she was the one in trouble."

Tien shrugged. "It isn't as if we wouldn't have a reason to be
concerned."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?!" Vegeta shouted, lunging
forward.

"That's enough," Piccolo said, deliberately stepping between the
two rivals before things became messy. Of all of them, he knew that he
was probably the only person besides Gohan who the Saiyan didn't hate on
sight, and he hoped to use it to his advantage and get quickly to the
matter at hand. "All of us sensed you power up to a level you haven't
used since battling Cell. We had to investigate. You would have done the
same."

Vegeta backed off a little at the blunt logic.

"What happened?"

"I don't answer to you, Namek," he sneered. "So get out of my face
before I Galactic Gun your green ass all over this fucking rainforest."

Scowling, the huge alien reluctantly rejoined the others. He had
hoped to find the mercurial Saiyan reasonable, figuring that this
enigmatic human ritual called marriage would have tempered him a little.
As usual, where matters involving Vegeta were concerned, it ended in
disaster. They would find no explanation from that cold, resentful
person glaring back at them. That began a four-against-one staring
contest that was over even before it began as the Saiyan suddenly turned
to look in the direction where his bride was getting dressed, "Bulma."

The rustling ferns momentarily stopped moving. "What?"

"Your loser friends want an explanation as to what happened in the
south. Will you tell them."

"Sure."

"I'll leave you to it," he said and took to the air without so
much as a backwards glance, leaving her and the well-intentioned
fighters all on their own. Tien glanced in the direction that the Saiyan
had gone, to the bushes where Bulma was hiding, and back up to the
overhanging canopy again. He had witnessed the brusque Saiyan actually
make a request from Bulma instead of demand one. It was subtle, a thing
that a person who didn't know the alien wouldn't easily pick up but Tien
noticed it right away. Judging by the surprised looks on the others
faces; they had noticed it, too.

At long, long last, the constant anxiety between Tien's shoulders
began to finally ease. Vegeta was different. In a good way. The marriage
between the two, as shocked and as skeptical as he had first been when
he had read about during the Himalayan blizzard, actually appeared to be
a beneficial union between the two. Bulma's trademark bitchiness
actually appeared to be waning and Vegeta's instability seemed to be
under firm control. As long as they were together, the Z Fighters could
relax.

At least until the pair had a fight. Or went through a divorce...

The tension between Tien's shoulders came back, worse than ever.

When Bulma was finally dressed, she wasted no time telling them
about what had happened in Antarctica and she didn't give them a
Reader's Digest condensed version of their adventure, either. She made
it a point to explain in detail how Vegeta had saved her life, not once
but twice, and how he had dealt with the Void Worms. She knew that
Piccolo was in her camp, and Yamcha was coming around to the belief that
sometimes, in very rare cases, a leopard could actually change its
spots. Chiaotzu didn't appear to hold grudges, he generally went along
with whatever his partner felt. Tien, however, wasn't swayed by anything
personal that Bulma felt compelled to share. He would always envy the
Saiyan's power and fighting ability (among other things) and he would
always hate him personally. There would be no swaying him from that
opinion. Ever.

"We'll go there immediately," Piccolo said, when she was through
explaining the situation.

Hey!" Yamcha quickly interrupted. "I'd like to have more on my
back than a t-shirt and jeans if we're going to Antarctica!"

"I'll go on ahead. You three can follow my ki when you're packed
and ready," he amended. He passed Bulma a grateful nod and flew off, his
white cape flailing like a banner against the canopy before he
disappeared from sight.

"C'mon Chiaotzu, looks like we're going back to blizzard country.
Let's go retrieve our gear," Tien sighed, and took off in the opposite
direction that the Namek had gone.

"Buh-but we only just took it off!" the little man objected as he
trailed along behind his friend.

Soon, only Bulma and Yamcha were left alone in the forest. There
was an awkward silence between them and the fighter took advantage of
the moment to examine his ex-lover as closely as he dared. It looked as
though Bulma had lost a little weight during her hectic honeymoon, and
gained some distinct muscle tone in the bargain. Her complexion, always
flawless, actually appeared to glow with purpose and vitality. Her hair,
like her eyes, radiated a steady shine that was indicative of health and
vigor. Even her breasts appeared to be firmer, perkier than before. It
was as if she had stepped into a time portal and emerged a few years
younger. "You-you look..." simply amazing, he wanted to say. The most
beautiful woman I've ever seen. "... great," he said instead.

That broke the spell. "Oh, I'm a wreck," she said with a laugh,
brushing a hand through her mussed hair. "We lost nearly everything we
owned in Antarctica. Vegeta lost all of his clothes, I don't have any
make-up, and I'd kill for a hairdryer right now. It's hard to put this
Honeymoon into words, Yamcha."

"But it was fun, wasn't it?"

She said without hesitation: "I'd do it all again in a second."
Her smile was back, more dazzling than before.

Entranced, Yamcha started to walk towards her and was interrupted
by a loud crunch. Looking to his left he saw that Vegeta had returned.
He was leaning against the trunk of tree and eating a piece of fruit.
His manner appeared casual but his eyes ticked from him, to Bulma, and
back again, flashing a clear warning. Yamcha understood that caution
radiating from those cold, raven depths and went no closer. "I'm uh,
glad that you guys are, y'know, okay and all."

"Thank you, Yamcha," Bulma said cheerily.

"Uhm," Vegeta grunted, and went back to eating.

"Er, ahem, Vegeta, there's... ah, something you might want to know
about- about Dorothy Per-"

He jumped back as a ki bolt made a foot-deep crater less than an
inch from his feet. Vegeta had his hand out and the first two fingers
were glowing. "If you say that bitch's name again, I'll burn off your
tongue."

"We're on our honeymoon, Yamcha! Why are you bring her up at a
time like this?!" Bulma yelled at him in frustration. "I thought you
were smarter than that!"

This wasn't the place to ask the question that had nagged away at
Yamcha ever since he had seen the photo tucked away in the night table
of Dorothy Pereaux's bedroom. That little three-year old girl... those
black eyes...

... that dramatic widow's peak.

Veronica Pereaux, the actress's daughter. Yamcha had asked who her
father was and had gotten an offhanded remark of; "It was a one night
stand. I didn't bother to catch his name." Not a very satisfying answer
and it was all that he could get out of the woman until they had broken
up two days later. After that, she had changed her number and blocked
any attempts for him to reach her, not that he tried very hard. The
tabloids, and critics, and the few people who could still stand to work
with her had been right all along: She was a bitch.

But she was also a mother, and that little tidbit gnawed away at
Yamcha. As much as he wanted to bring the subject up here and now, he
had to wonder what would be the point? All that it would accomplish
would be to generate anger, disbelief, and eventually curiosity. He knew
Bulma well enough to know that she wouldn't let things simply lie still;
she had to poke it with a stick. And Dorothy Pereaux was not a woman who
took such things lying down. It would create a firestorm that would span
the papers and electronic media until there would be only one outcome:
The relationship between Vegeta and Bulma would fracture, and the Earth
would lose the only leash on a homicidal force that was capable of
keeping that rage in check.

Maybe he wasn't giving them enough credit. It was possible that
they could work through something this scandalous, if it was as Yamcha
suspected. Hell, people did it every day. But he didn't want to be the
person responsible for putting those forces into motion. He had already
done enough damage to the pair with his meddling in the past. Dorothy's
story was believable and she was content to live a reclusive life
exclusively for the very rich, shielding her daughter from the media. It
could be years before the questions would roll around, questioning the
girl's paternity. If ever at all. Yamcha resolved that it was not going
to be him that would start that ball rolling.

"Yamcha!" Bulma snapped at him as continued with his internal
debate. He didn't want to see her hurt, now or ever, but he knew that he
had to back away as much as that decision bothered him. She was in love
with Vegeta now, and their time as lovers was over. He had to ensure
that they at least remained good friends.

"Whoops! Sorry about that," he ended up saying, scratching at the
back of his head and smiling. It was a habit that he had picked up from
his days hanging around with Gokou and, at the sight, Bulma immediately
relented. "I just don't know what I was thinking-"

The familiar gesture had the opposite effect on Vegeta who didn't
need any reminder of his deceased archrival. He threw the half-eaten
fruit away and marched over to the younger fighter, poking him directly
on the chest. "All three of us know that you don't have the capacity to
think. She's told you the situation. Why don't you leave and go do your
usual half-assed rendition of trying to save the planet?"

"What're you trying to say?"

"Yamcha..." Bulma cautioned.

"Fuck off!" Vegeta snarled. "Is that clear enough for you?!"

"Wow, Vegeta. Being a married man has really mellowed you-" he
leapt backward in an agile flip as the Saiyan suddenly swung at him.
"I'm just kidding!" he teased as he took to the air. "I'll see you guys
later. Enjoy the rest of your honeymoon!"

"We will!" Bulma said, waving enthusiastically.

"Make sure you rub some if that worm spit on your skin!" Vegeta
hollered after him. "It'll protect you from the cold-"

Bulma grabbed onto his arm and shook it. "Vegeta!"

"What? It'd serve the smart-ass right!"

"I swear the two of you are going to drive me insane," she fretted
as she collected the scattered remains of their clothing from around the
brush. "You should know by now that you've got nothing to be jealous
about where he's concerned."

"I'm not jealous. I just hate him. I hate all of them. It's as
simple as that."

He said those words in a casual enough tone of voice, but when he
met her probing stare, his eyes had shadowed over. In that moment, Bulma
knew that the playful, exuberant character she had shared the pool with
earlier was gone. It was the presence of the Z Fighters that had done it
and, not for the first time, she silently cursed their poor timing. He
immediately adopted the callous soldier visage whenever he felt remotely
threatened and he was wearing it now like a suit of armor. Her eyes
softened at the sight. Their honeymoon was over in more ways than one...

"Well, we don't have any other clothes and we lost all of our
money and identifications. Do you want to cut the honeymoon short and
summon Shenron? We only had two days left anyway."

He nodded once. "Sounds like a plan."

"Do you want to do it here?"

"No. We have to go to Dende's Lookout. The sprout is the only one
who can speak the summoning words."

She could have kicked herself. "That's right! These are different
than the Dragonballs I used to chase after when I was a kid. Back then,
anyone who found all seven could make a wish. Dende created these after
Piccolo absorbed Kami. Shenron is now a Namek Dragon-"

"You do realize that you're not telling me anything that I don't
already know. I was there, remember?" he reminded her, his eyelids half-
closed in boredom.

"So was I," she said, sticking her tongue out at him. Such
displays of immaturity always broke up a fight because he always did
exactly what he was doing now; Rolling his eyes at her and shaking his
head. "I also remember how you were showing off in front of me when you
battled Zarbon."

He whirled on her, astonished. "I was NOT showing off!"

"-and how you later told Gohan that you thought I was gorgeous."

His eyes bulged and a dramatic flush rose from his collarbones and
all the way up into his hairline. He opened his mouth, sputtered on a
word, and snapped it closed again. Bulma danced in and kissed one
crimson cheek and flounced off again, singing over and over; "You said I
was gorgeous, you said I was-"

"!!ENOUGH!!" he thundered. From a nearby tree, a flock of
brilliant blue parrots took to the wing and flew off, squawking in
agitation.

"Not until you admit it!" she shot back. "Were you showing off or
weren't you?"

His lips were a bloodless straight line as he grappled with his
anger. Hesitating, he took the time to evaluate that past battle in his
mind. Yes, there it was as plain as day: Covert glances in her
direction, the odd sly innuendo. Had he really thought she hadn't
noticed? He offered her a distracted shrug and said aloofly, "Perhaps I
was prolonging the battle a bit-"

She raised a triumphant fist to the air. "I knew it!"

"Only because I didn't want to finish the prick so soon. I wanted
him to suffer."

"Yeah, right. I saw how you were looking at me and leering. You
were showing off and having the time of your life."

"Did you like it?"

The question was completely unexpected. "Did I..."

"It's a simple question," he said, walking purposely towards her.
She had been getting far too much enjoyment at his expense and now it
was time to turn the tables. "I beat a man to death directly in front of
you. Did you like what you saw?"

"Well, I-I didn't like it, but Zarbon was evil-"

"If I recall correctly, you were initially cheering him on to kill
me. Or have you conveniently forgotten that little tidbit?" It was
gratifying to finally see some hint of a blush reach her fair cheeks
instead of the other way around. "You had the hots for that green
pretty-boy, am I right? At least until he revealed his true form. You
weren't so horny for him after that little revelation, were you?"

Unable to meet his gaze, she shook her head. Her face glowed with
shame; she had been so immature back then, selfish and demanding. Yamcha
had been barely dead in the ground for a month and there she had been;
panting over a tall, exotic-looking man like some high school teenager
on a first crush.

"So why him? Why didn't you cheer me on instead?"

"Why-? Because you-you nearly destroyed the Earth. I-I hated you!"

He didn't appear put-off by the honesty. He actually respected it.
"If you had known all of the things that Zarbon had done to other
planets over the decades, you would have hated him more. That was why I
drew out the battle for as long as I did. To show you the real monster
that he was."

"If you hadn't been there, he would have killed us," she realized
in a hushed whisper.

"There was no guarantee that I wasn't going to either."

"But you didn't," she said in a stronger voice. "You took the
Dragonball without harming me or Krillin. We were reminders of your
first defeat on Earth. You certainly had reason to kill us, but you
didn't. Now why is that, Vegeta?"

Their faces were bare inches apart. Her brilliant blue eyes
drilled directly into his coal black ones and, of the two, he finally
blinked first. "When I found out later that the brats had tricked me I
came back to where you were and leveled that place, and it wouldn't have
mattered one bit to me if you had been there or not. But during that
battle with Zarbon, I saw you and-and-" he shook his head and looked
away, trying desperately to come up with an answer that would satisfy
her. "I don't know what I was thinking. Perhaps I was disoriented from
an earlier battle, or felt rushed because Frieza was on his way, maybe I
was just tired-"

"You're making excuses."

He took a deep breath and crossed his arms. "I just know that I
didn't want to kill you, that's all. I can't explain it."

Bulma was smiling. "You don't have to explain anything. I
understand."

His eyes sharpened in her face again. "It isn't what you think."

"It isn't? I know what was on your mind; You thought I was
gorgeous. You thought I was-" she danced away from him, laughing and
singing her maddening, simple little song while he gripped his hands
into fists so tight, his fingernails made bloody crescents in his palms.

"When we get back to the Capital, Gohan and I are going to have
words," he snarled under his breath before following after his chanting
bride.

>>>>>

Early in the evening, the pair made their way to Dende's Lookout
where the Earth's caretaker and his manservant, Mr. Popo, awaited them.

"Piccolo told us that you might be coming soon. Welcome, welcome,"
the chubby black man greeted them when they landed near the palace. His
manner was so accepting and benevolent that it was hard to believe that
he didn't hold a grudge for the near destruction of the Lookout a year
ago. It was the time when Vegeta had succumbed to amnesia as a result of
Frieza's poison. He had reverted back to the days of his savage youth
and had shot the Lookout to pieces just for the sheer hell of it.

Looking around now, it was as if that damage had never been
inflicted. The immaculate white marble was unmarred by cracks or chips,
and the palace looked as if it had been freshly rebuilt. The massive
pillars and stone stairs were highly polished. The huge front bay
windows reflected the rays of the setting sun in brilliant orange and
gold flashes of light. Shrubs and potted trees lightly swayed in the
gentle breeze.

"I like what you've done with the place," Vegeta remarked dryly
and smirked when Bulma lightly slapped his shoulder.

"How was your honeymoon?" Dende asked. He was smiling easily
enough but his eyes ticked back and forth between the couple, lingering
longest on the Saiyan. As sweet natured as he was, the young Namek could
never completely forget the carnage that Vegeta had wrought on his home
planet, now dust on the solar winds. A good many of his pod-brothers and
sisters had died terrible deaths at the hands of the alien standing on
the dais before him. "Was it uneventful?"

"Oh, good heaven's- NO!" Bulma laughed out loud and proceeded to
tell the small alien about how bad luck had certainly tailed them on
this journey, starting with the traffic jam on the very day of their
marriage.

"Woman!" Vegeta barked, "You can tell him about it all later.
Right now, I just want to tell Shenron my two wishes. That was the
purpose of this two-week ordeal, remember?"

"I don't remember you calling it an ordeal this afternoon," she
purred, batting her long eyelashes at him. "Or just before we left,
either," she reached up to his hair and pulled out a leaf that was stuck
in the heavy mane.

"Don't say one more word," he hissed, snatching it out of her hand
and stuffing it into his back pocket.

"Spoilsport."

A roll of the eyes and a headshake later, Vegeta popped the
capsule containing the seven Dragonballs and stepped back to allow Dende
to examine them. "These have been to many exotic locations," the little
alien said in soft voice, gently caressing each magical orb. "You two
have had quite an adventure together, it appears."

"You can get all that from just fondling the balls?" Bulma asked
straight-faced, and flashed Vegeta a dirty look when he began
snickering.

Dende innocently nodded. "It is good to see all of you again," he
whispered to them. One by one, he carefully carried them out to the
middle of the wide Lookout platform until he had all seven carefully
arranged in order. Then he began the summoning ritual to invoke the
Dragon spirit housed inside the balls. A few softly spoken words, a
dramatic raise of the arms; and the darkening night sky suddenly became
pitch black as the powers of the Dragonball ignited, and Shenron sprang
forth from their glow.

The enormous Dragon spirit rose into the sky and took the half-
snake, half-humanoid form that was indicative of its Namek parentage. It
crossed its immense arms and peered down at all of them standing on the
Lookout, demanding in a booming voice: "STATE YOUR TWO WISHES SO THAT I
CAN RETURN TO MY SLUMBER."

"Showtime," Bulma said and gave Vegeta forceful shove from behind.
"This is what you've been waiting for, isn't it? Get moving!"

Vegeta wasn't sure if it was the Dragon's undulating body
reminding him of the Void Worms, or the fact that Shenron bore a vague
resemblance to Zarbon's reptilian form, but either way, he had to
actively force himself to join Dende's side. Bulma was watching him and
he certainly didn't want to screw up in front of her.

"Shenron!" he shouted in a firm, authoritative voice. "I am
Vegeta, Prince of the Saiyans, and I want you to grant my first wish."

"TELL ME YOUR FIRST WISH, PRINCE OF SAIYANS."

"My wish is for Ivory City and its citizens to be returned back to
the condition it was in before I destroyed it."

Shenron's body glowed brighter and he released a steady,
reverberating growl that was almost like a deep purr before he
announced: "IT IS DONE. WHAT IS YOUR SECOND WISH?"

Vegeta opened his mouth and closed it again without saying a word.
He suddenly appeared to fall into deep thought, staring intently down at
the highly polished marble floor.

"Vegeta?" Dende asked in a hesitant voice. "Shenron is waiting."

"I know, sprout. Just give me a minute," the Saiyan said absently,
trying to make a final decision with all of the ideas he had stored up
in his mind in preparation for this very moment. At one point, he had
wanted his tail back. Another time, he wondered if he shouldn't wish
Nappa back, if only to dispatch the old bodyguard in a face-to-face
battle instead of how he had ended their partnership. Using it to off
the Pereaux bitch would just be a waste. His desire for immortality was
always there, but he doubted that Bulma would go along with the idea,
even if Shenron could give a two-for-one sale with the last wish. And
even that still left Trunks out of the loop, didn't it?

"MY IMPATIENCE GROWS, PRINCE OF SAIYANS. STATE YOUR LAST WISH."

"Vegeta!" Dende urged.

He deliberately ignored the other alien. His mind was a maelstrom
of whirling thoughts, desires, and dreams. Could Shenron bring back the
Saiyans? Could he restore their home world? Damn it! There was so little
he knew about Shenron's limitations! He continued trying to rationalize
his internal conflict while above them all, Shenron began to thrash
about with growing displeasure.

"Er, Bulma," Mr. Popo whispered over to Bulma from where they were
standing near the palace, watching the display. "What is wrong with
Vegeta?"

"I'm not sure," she mused, watching him carefully. "I don't think
he knows what to ask for from Shenron. He doesn't really have much of an
imagination."

"I'm sure that wouldn't be a problem for you," the small man
chuckled.

"No, I had a wish already picked out."

"And what was that?"

She looked up into the sky with a dreamy expression on her face
and sighed, "I would wish for..."

"YOUR WISH HAS BEEN GRANTED."

"Huh?" Vegeta snapped his head up to look at Shenron in shock.
"What did you say? I didn't make my second wish yet!"

"FAREWELL."

"!!HEY!!" He recoiled as the light flashed and Shenron
disappeared. In the center of his being, the seven Dragonballs lingered
in the air for several seconds before arcing off like comets across the
sky, heading off to new exotic destinations. The pitch-black sky
returned to its deepening azure, with the first of the early evening
stars beginning to peer through.

Vegeta rounded on Dende and shouted in his face, "What the hell
was that all about? I didn't get my second wish!"

The little Namek quickly backpedaled away from the furious Saiyan.
"I-I'm sorry, Vegeta, but Shenron wouldn't have left unless someone had
made one while he was here."

"Well, it sure wasn't me and it wasn't you, so who-" he looked
around and glared over at the pair standing in front of the palace. Mr.
Popo's face was dark and unreadable, the perfect poker face, but Bulma
had her hand pressed to her lips and her eyes were as wide as saucers.

"What. Did. You. Do?" Vegeta ground out from between clenched
teeth.

"... oh crap..." Bulma squeaked out.


______________________________
Epilogue: The honeymoon comes to an end and Bulma's wish is revealed ...