Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ AFTER THE KISS ❯ Chapter 11 ( Chapter 11 )

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragonballz nor am I making any money off this story. I'm just having a wee bit of fun.

For those of you who don't read the notes at the end, let me thank EMBER up front for being a super beta and consultant. She is wonderful, personally and professionally. Domo arigato, Ember-chan!

AFTER THE KISS

*Chapter 11*

Vegeta lowered his hand for the fourth time. He was standing outside the front door to Bulma's house. Tomorrow morning he would leave. If he was going to tell her he was leaving personally it had to be tonight. He couldn't know, of course, that Bulma had gone through a similar dilemma a few days earlier. If he had, he certainly would have ridiculed her for her hesitation to say what was on her mind. Just get it over with!

That was what he had been telling himself for the last two days. That, or say nothing. She'll figure out you're gone. No need to make any announcements. This wasn't a very attractive option either. Despite anything he had ever said to the contrary, he was well aware that he should at least acknowledge her contributions to his stay on Earth. No one since he had left planet Vegeta had ever provided so much for him. On Vegeta, a vassal who had contributed as much as Bulma had to the royal family would have been acknowledged in a public ceremony, perhaps awarded a title. "They will give to you because you are their King," his father had told him once. "They will give you more if you praise them."

Of course, he didn't need anything else from Bulma, but that was beside the point. He had had few opportunities in his life to behave as a prince. He should take advantage of them when they presented themselves.

He raised his hand again to knock.

And lowered it.

Why is this for fucking difficult? Bulma, I'm leaving Earth. Goodbye. His stomach cramped. To make matters worse, he was having a physical reaction to his anxiety, something he hadn't experienced since he was a child in Frieza's court and he learned that his primary function was to be Frieza's favorite whipping boy. The pain involved with that position was nothing to him, of course, but the humiliation that came with the pain was anathema to a boy who had cut his teeth on pride. Upon receiving a summons, his body would react, sometimes with no more than a cold sweat; other times with cramping, even vomiting. He outgrew the reaction (he thought) and when his stomach started cramping yesterday, he blamed it on overindulgence in a favorite Earth food, one he knew he would miss after he left. The closer the time of his departure came, though, the more he realized it was seeing Bulma that was bringing on the cramping. So get it over with already! It's not like you haven't left before. What's the problem?

The problem is you won't ever see her again, his brain answered. You may have left before, but now you can't lie to yourself about her. Now you know that no matter where you go, no matter how long you live, you will think about her. You will wonder what she's doing. Is she happy? Is she even alive? You've never said goodbye to anyone before. Even when you left Vegeta, you believed you would return. There will be no turning back this time and you know it. That's the problem. Now do it or leave like a coward.

He knocked.

The door opened and Bulma stood there. She hadn't changed for bed yet and that was good. She might be cranky if he dragged her out of bed to answer the door.

"Vegeta!"

"Hello, Bulma."

"Well, this is a surprise. Did you mean to come for dinner? You've missed it by a few hours, you know, and Trunks is already in bed-"

"No, I didn't come for that," he said. "May I come in?"

"Yes! I'm sorry, where's my manners?" She opened the door wider and he entered her house. "Come sit down," she said, leading him into a small living room.

Vegeta looked around. Everything was small compared to the living quarters at Capsule Corporation; the furniture, the television set (which Bulma turned off). She noticed his eyes taking in her home.

"It's small, I know. But I like it. It's cozy and just right for me and Trunks." She sat down opposite him.

"What's this about?" she asked.

Vegeta didn't answer and Bulma looked at him closely. He was pale and a fine sheen of sweat had broken out on his forehead. If she didn't know better, she'd think he was ill.

I'm leaving Earth. Goodbye.

"Vegeta?" she prompted.

"I'm leaving," he said. That wasn't right. . .

"But you just got here. . ."

"No, I'm leaving Earth," he said. There! That was better.

She looked confused. "For how long?"

"I won't return."

Oh no, Bulma thought. Forever. She looked away.

"When?" she asked.

"Tomorrow."

"So why come here? Why not just leave?" She wished she could keep the anger out of her voice. She looked at him. Did he just get paler?

"I. . . wanted to thank you for your services to a prince of Vegeta." He kept his face immobile as another cramp hit him. Almost over. She'll say "You're welcome" and . . . .

"It was my pleasure to serve you, your highness," she said. "Don't let the door hit your ass on the way out!" Arrogant asshole! And to think a few seconds ago I was sorry I would never see him again. She stood up, expecting him to follow suit. He did, but it appeared to be with some effort. She looked at his pale face and noticed that the sweat on his brow had moved beyond "sheen". Something's wrong. Could he be ill?

"Vegeta, are you OK? You don't look well," she said.

"I'm fine," he said, stepping past her to the door. She stepped in front of him and put a hand on his forehead.

"You're warm, but you're always warm. I don't have anything here to check you out with. Let's head over to the compound so I can run-"

"Damnit, Bulma, I'm fine!"

"You're not fine! You're pale as a ghost and you're sweating like a fever's just broken! Now tell me what's wrong!"

Tell her about the cramping, his brain snickered. Tell her you're having an anxiety attack over telling her goodbye. He tried to calm himself. He was never going to get out of here at this rate. Bulma was waiting for some answer and he'd be damned if he was going to tell her the truth. You see, Bulma, the great Prince of all Saiyans is having a bit of an anxiety attack over the thought of never seeing your pathetic human face again. . . . His stomach cramped again and this time he didn't hide it as well.

"Vegeta? Look, at least lie down, OK? Before you fall down." She grabbed his hand and pulled him toward her bedroom.

"I'm fine. . ."

"Yeah, sure you are, Vegeta. Just placate the mother in me and lie down for a few minutes. I can't let you leave when you look like this and you certainly don't want to leave for space tomorrow if you really are sick." She steered him towards her bed and gave him a gentle push to sit him down.

"Just lay down for a few minutes. Then I'll leave you alone, OK?"

"Just a few minutes," he said and lay down. This will shut her up, he thought. When she leaves the room, I can leave by her window. He breathed in and smelled her scent. Something inside him unknotted. He turned onto his side, lifted the end of the pillow to his nose and breathed again, memorizing the scent. Maybe I should take this with me, he thought and fell asleep.

Out in her living room, Bulma turned the television back on, determined to get her mind off the strange visit from Vegeta. She flipped through the channels, but as soon as she found a program that she thought would hold her interest, she would start wondering about Vegeta again. Could he be really ill? He always said Saiyans don't get sick, but what else? And why would he even come over here at all? One more fight for the road? Or was that his bizarre way of saying goodbye? She grabbed an afghan and curled up on her side. Damn loveseat. When am I going to learn not to buy "cute"? She flipped the channel again and found an old movie she loved. By the time her favorite part in the movie came though, the one where the hero admits his undying love for the heroine, she was fast asleep.

********************************************************* ****************************************

A loud commercial woke her. She sat up and glanced at the clock. Not as late as I thought. Why am I on the loveseat?

Vegeta!

She ran to her bedroom and peered into the darkness. She sighed, relieved. He was still there. She walked over and lightly touched his forehead. He was sweating no more. Maybe it was just some weird bug and it took longer than normal for his Saiyan physiology to fight it off. I wonder how much longer he'll sleep, she thought. I didn't exactly plan to spend my entire night on the loveseat. Of course, there's plenty of room here. I'll have to sleep on the wrong side since his highness took mine, but it's better than the loveseat by a long shot and I'm supposed to go to work tomorrow. Aww, to hell with it. It is my bed.

So she lay down on top of the covers, fully dressed. It felt so good to stretch out that she fell asleep without any thoughts at all.

********************************************************* ************************************

She woke up this time because she didn't feel right. She opened her eyes to see she was laying on her side, facing the edge of her bed-the wrong edge. Why was she on the wrong side of the bed? And in her clothes? Vegeta! That's right. He was on the other side. She rolled onto her back to see if he had left yet-and found him staring at her. He was lying on his side, propped up on his elbow, looking at her with those black eyes of his. How long he'd been watching her she didn't know and she was faintly surprised that the thought of him watching her sleep didn't make her uncomfortable. She was less surprised at the relief she felt because he hadn't left yet. The truth was, she never wanted him to leave.

They stared at each other in the dark, he apparently as comfortable with the situation as she. Finally, Bulma became too curious about what Vegeta was thinking to be silent anymore.

"Vegeta?" she asked softly.

He didn't answer for a long time and then he took a breath and began to speak.

"All my life I have chased my destiny, only to find it destroyed or taken by another. I. . .I am tired. I think I would like to be still and let destiny come to me."

Bulma swallowed and felt tears fall from her eyes back into her hair. She hadn't even felt them tear up.

"I think that sounds like a good plan," she said, with a tender smile. "I'm sure Destiny will find you when she needs you."

"She? You think Destiny is a woman?"

"Of course," she said. "Do you doubt it?"

"I doubt everything," he said.

Me? she wondered. Do you doubt me too? How can you not know?

"Why did you leave before?" she asked.

"I am not used to having anything to lose. It made me uncomfortable."

Her brows drew together in confusion. "What did you have to lose?"

He gave a small shake of his head, refusing to answer. "It doesn't matter," he said. "I lost it anyway."

Oh Vegeta, what will I do when you're gone? I don't even remember my life before you came, how can I have one without you? She would, she knew, have some kind of life. She would send Trunks to kindergarten, invent some more spectacular things, and become even richer. She would take over the company when her father retired, watch Trunks graduate from high school, then college. She would take cruises around the world, buy beautiful things and have a facelift or two. She would watch Trunks pick a nice girl and get married and then give her a grandchild. She would grow old and if she was lucky she would die peacefully in her sleep, gracing a few more magazine covers even in death. These were all things she knew were in her future, but now it seemed like a half-life because she hadn't really been alive until he came. She had been waiting for him to bring her to life, like a flower waiting for the sunshine to bloom; and like the flower, she would close up when the sun disappeared for the night, only in the morning, her sun would be gone.

"Please kiss me," she said.

She saw his surprise.

"You're leaving," she said. "So kiss me goodbye."

He hesitated and then his head began a slow descent to hers. She grew impatient and reached up with one hand to pull him down to her.

It was soft and slow and achingly sweet. It was warm and wet and so full of love that Bulma stopped and looked in his eyes.

"Don't lie to me," she said.

"I won't," he answered.

And he didn't. With his lips and tongue he told her how beautiful he thought she was. With his breath, he showed her how she warmed his soul. His hands told her that he would never hold anything this perfect again, even if he searched a lifetime. And when he fitted his body to hers, he told her how he would never belong anywhere again. He only fit here. Only with her.

When I dream, he thought as she curled up next to him in her sleep, I will dream of you. I will dream of this goodbye. And even though I never said a word, perhaps I will have said the right things.

********************************************************* ************************************

In the morning when she woke up, he was gone.

She sat up and looked around the room. His clothes were gone. He's gone.

She threw her pillow across the room.

"Why am I so stupid?!" she said, burying he face in her hands.

"Do you really want me to answer that or was that a rhetorical question?"

She looked up and Vegeta was standing in the doorway, pants on, but his shirt was slung over one shoulder. He looked delicious.

"Where'd you go?" she asked.

"The brat was making noise. I went and told him to quiet down because you were sleeping."

This was a lie. Trunks hadn't woken at all, he was still sound asleep in his crib. Vegeta had just wanted to get a good look at his son without anyone peering at him, questioning what his motives might be. Even though he was leaving, he figured he was entitled to at least one good look. He had stood there, staring, wishing for a scouter for the first time in a long time. The child is strong, he thought and couldn't help adding, of course.

"She cries for you, my mother," his son had said. "I think you should know that."

"Not anymore," he whispered to the smaller version before him "not anymore."

He awoke this morning later than he had intended. He had wanted to leave before daybreak, but when he awoke and saw the sunlight on Bulma's skin, he was grateful to have one more memory to take with him. He had lain there, looking at her, the sun's warmth giving her skin an ethereal glow. The events that brought her to him were so improbable that even in a thousand lifetimes, they wouldn't duplicate themselves. In an infinite universe, somehow he had wound up here. They should never have met and would never meet again.

He had heard of stars traveling too close to each other in deep space. Their immense gravities pulled huge waves of fire and energy from each, giving it to the other. They circled each other in a death embrace, tearing each other apart. Sometimes, however, the stars' cosmic momentum pulled them apart before the dance was done. They moved away from each other, intact, but burning forever with part of the other star's energy. After he left he knew part of Bulma would burn in him. A week ago, the thought would have infuriated him. He welcomed it now. He knew somehow he burned brighter because of it.

"Oh, I'd better get him" she said, getting out of bed to put on her robe.

"He's asleep now. Don't bother," Vegeta said. He enjoyed the view as Bulma slipped into her robe. It was tempting, but he had no idea what kind of welcome he would receive in the light of day. Last night was special, he thought. Don't push it.

"So who do you have to sleep with to get some breakfast around here?" he asked instead.

Bulma grinned. He's staying he must be! He said he wouldn't lie. He can't touch me like that and leave. "That would be me," she said.

Thank goodness I got groceries yesterday, she thought as she made her way to the kitchen. It wouldn't be a very good start to starve Vegeta his first day here! She put on coffee and began cooking portions much larger than she normally prepared.

"Do you want coffee or juice?" she asked as she set his plate in front of him.

"Coffee's fine," he said and stuffed a forkful of food in his mouth.

Bulma watched him chew, waiting to see his reaction.

"This doesn't suck," he said.

Bulma giggled. "It doesn't, does it?" She got his coffee and sat down with her own plate. "Maternity leave is not what's it's cracked up to be. Just you, a baby, and daytime television. . . . Yuk! It's no wonder housewives are going back to work! Daytime television would drive anyone from their home. One day I was just flipping mindlessly and I found this cooking show! It was entertaining and really went into a lot of the science behind cooking. You know, what makes bread rise, or milk scald---"

"Which you enjoy."

"Right! So everyday I watched this show and I learned how to cook. The repertoire is limited but definitely edible! Of course, when it was just Trunks and me it didn't matter that there wasn't a lot of variety, but since I'm going to be cooking for you, I'm going to-"

She stopped at the expression on his face. It was . . .shocked. Appalled even. The truth sunk in. He wasn't staying. He hadn't chosen her. . .again. She dropped her eyes to her lap, wringing her hands.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I told myself not to make too much out of last night, especially since I practically begged for it. It felt so right and then you were here this morning-"

Bulma was right. Vegeta was shocked. He didn't think she'd expect him to stay. He didn't think she'd want him to stay. Stay.

"-I felt that you'd changed your mind,---"

But it seemed she did want him to stay. Stay, he thought. Be still. Stay with her. What would that mean, if I stayed with her? He didn't know, but he wanted to find out.

"Bulma-" he said.

"-but of course I should have known-"

"Bulma-"

"-that somehow I'd misread everything like before-"

"Bulma!"

Finally she looked up from her hands. He reached out and wiped the tears from one cheek and looked into her eyes.

"I will stay."

She reached up and wiped the tears from her other cheek.

"You'll stay?"

"I will stay," he repeated. His lips twisted into a teasing smile. "At least until your ugly face and bad temper drive me away."

Her eyes narrowed and she leaned forward to rest her chin on one fist.

"Don't you mean 'until I get tired of your useless, arrogant Saiyan ass and throw you out'?"

His smile widened. "That too."

Bulma leaned back with a smile of her own and gave a small shrug.

"Fair enough," she said and went back to eating her breakfast. Vegeta watched her, utterly certain that for one time in his life he had made a good decision. Where it would lead, he didn't know. He didn't care. He felt good. He felt light.

Bulma felt his eyes on her. She kept eating with a calm she did not feel. This accord was too new, too uncertain. Wanting was one thing, reality was another. Is it love? Is it forever? Or is this just another mistake?

Then something new happened. Her heart spoke. You don't need to know these things now, it said. He will stay. There is time.

Yes, she thought, we have time now.

And the future didn't seem uncertain or frightening anymore. It was a present to be opened, a vacation to a secret destination, a seed planted in the sunshine to grow. It was all these things and it would be revealed to her in time-and he would be there.

"Better finish your breakfast before it gets cold," she said, "because I'm sure as hell not cooking you another one."

And later, when breakfast was finished, Bulma properly introduced Vegeta to his son.

FIN

Revised Notes: Just a small bit to complement the conversation I added between Bulma and Mirai Trunks in Chapter 10. Thanks for reading.

Original Notes: Well, it's finished. I hope you weren't disappointed that there were no protestations of undying love. I don't think they are ready for that yet. Another fic, perhaps.

I hope you enjoyed the story. Thank you so much for your kind reviews. I would love to hear any other feedback you can provide, even things you think are negative so I can improve. I do plan on writing more stories, so please check back occasionally. A couple of fics are already in the works and when I feel fairly confident about their progress, I'll start posting.

For those of you interested in these things, First "Date" and After the Kiss were inspired by the lyrics of John Lennon's Surprise, Surprise (Sweet Bird of Paradox). Hopefully, you noticed how often Vegeta (who had long since thought he had lost the capacity to be surprised) is surprised.

Sweet as the smell of success,
Her body's warm and wet,
She gets me through this god awful loneliness,
A natural high butterfly Oh I,
I need, need, need her.

Just like a willow tree,
A breath of spring you see,
And oh boy you don't know what she do to me,
She makes me sweat and forget who I am,
I need, need, need, need her.

Well I was wondering how long this could go on,

Well I thought I could never be surprised.
But could it be that I bit my own tongue?
It's so hard to swallow when you're wrong.

A bird of paradise,
The sunrise in her eyes,
God only knows such a sweet surprise,
I was blind, she blew my mind
I think I love, love, love, love, love her