Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Against All Odds ❯ Familiar Strangers ( Chapter 31 )

Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ, which we have established more than once.

Warning: Some lemony content. *cough*

Chapter Thirty-One

Familiar Strangers

Vegeta leaned heavily on Bulma as they staggered up to Frieza's ship. The Saiyan's wounds were grave, but not life threatening if he got into a regeneration tank quickly enough. Unfortunately for them, Frieza's ship was the only one that had the tanks available. As they approached the bottom of the landing plank the thick steel door to the ship slid open. Vegeta stiffened and pulled away from Bulma, nudging her behind him as he protectively stepped forward. He was expecting to be greeted by warriors loyal to the dead lord, but instead the opening of the door revealed a tall, olive-skinned man, who looked down on them with a half-smile.

"Lord Vegeta, welcome to your ship." From behind Zarbon, Frieza's regiment stepped forward, flanking the gangway in a formal greeting of respect and obedience. Though the men faced forward impassively as trained, more than one flicked their eyes towards the Saiyan prince and his blue-haired consort. Though her beauty was renown, it did not keep their attention for long. With stunned awe they watched the slow drip of blood from their former lord's severed head that swung from the battered warrior's fist.

Vegeta raised his head regally and he swelled with pride. He had achieved his ultimate goal and defeated his master. He was the new lord of the universe and no one would dare disobey him once they saw the proof of his gargantuan strength displayed on his throne room wall. He had finally avenged his people and taken his rightful place as king. It pained him greatly that only two full-blooded Saiyans lived to see his victory, but it did not dull his glory. When he met his people in the next dimension, it would as an emperor not an orphan prince.

Zarbon's eyes widened when he glimpsed Bulma standing behind Vegeta. She was alive and well. His bemused gaze was captured by the ruthless warrior's stare and Zarbon barely caught himself before his jaw unhinged. The mighty Saiyan prince had made a wish, not for power or riches, but to bring Bulma back to life. Joy radiated through him at the sight of his friend as he silently vowed to serve the man who killed his sadistic master and restored his only confidant to him.

Vegeta reached back, taking hold of Bulma's slender arm as he strode up the walkway, ignoring the screaming ache of his body. They stopped in front of Zarbon, watching as a slow grin of satisfaction spread across the handsome man's face at the sight of Frieza's head, whose mouth gaped open hideously. His jade eyes rose to meet hard obsidian. Zarbon held Vegeta's gaze unflinchingly and was rewarded by the new lord's curt nod of respect.

"I knew you'd win. So I came back to prepare the ship for you. The men were quick to fall in line after some persuasion." Zarbon's cool tones washed over the crowd and a few bruised men grimaced, but they continued to stare straight ahead.

Zarbon did not feel the need to share his original intentions with the warrior. When he'd awoken at the bottom of the sea he had known that Vegeta had spared him and he'd recoiled physically from the knowledge. Zarbon felt such loathing at himself for his inaction back on Capital World while they tortured Bulma that he had felt a rush of despair. So he had returned to the ship with the bitter intention of rebelling against his master so he might finally end his filthy existence as the tyrant's whore. Zarbon's knees had nearly buckled when he felt Frieza's life force extinguish and a renewed sense of purpose coursed through his veins now that his tormentor was dead.

"Of course there was no doubt that I would be victorious. I am a Saiyan prince, undefeatable in battle." Vegeta's words were arrogant and boastful, never hinting at any doubt.

"Of course, my Lord. Would you like me to direct the ship to Capital World?" Zarbon questioned formally, eager to please the new leader of the universe, without being insipid.

Vegeta looked down at his pale mate, who was still slightly dazed from her ordeal. Her shining sapphire eyes gazed up at him, acceptance of the fact that he needed to claim the seat of power as quickly as possible, visible in their depths. Vegeta was entranced by her eyes and was unable to look away. Time was of the essence, every minute that he wasted not securing his throne would mean more turmoil for him in the future.

Bulma was pleased at the amount of respect that was being shown to Vegeta by men who had scorned him his entire life. He was finally getting the venation that he deserved as a warrior, as a prince, as a man. She reached out, never hesitating at placing her dainty white hand in his blood stained palm, squeezing his fingers reassuringly. She did not doubt that he would rush to Capital World and solidify his position as Emperor. He had finally achieved everything he had trained his entire life for and she supported that fully.

Without looking away from her Vegeta issued his order to Zarbon. "No, first we will go to retrieve our son."

Bulma's eyes widened subtly before they began to sparkle with a mixture of unshed tears and love. Vegeta's breath hitched in his chest and he swore that he would never do anything to make that look drain away. He ached to pull her closer to him, but the heavy stare of so many eyes made him pause.

Bulma's heart stumbled to a stop at Vegeta's order. For a minute she thought she had misunderstood, but he continued to watch her, gauging her reaction, looking for her approval. She had never dreamed that her proud prince would choose their family over his throne. In the past he had always been so cold, so distant, but now he looked at her like she was his universe, his everything. Her heart swelled in her chest until it throbbed. She never thought that loving someone could hurt so much, but she would rather die again than lose that feeling.

Zarbon watched the exchange, before nodding his head in understanding. "Well, you heard him you maggots, prepare the ship for lift off." The men turned sharply on their heels and double-timed it into the ship. Zarbon stepped to the side, stretching his arm out in welcome.

"Please allow me to escort you to the Regeneration Chamber, my Lord." He intoned formally. With a nod, Vegeta and Bulma stepped into their new ship. Vegeta had to suppress the urge to grin at the thought. Now that he was Emperor, he commanded legions and was the ruler of entire galaxies. Vegeta could barely hide the excitement he felt at entering Frieza's ship as its new lord and master. His back straightened and his shoulders pulled back as he raised his chin to an arrogant tilt. These men were his now. He had proven himself in battle to be the most powerful being in the universe and he ruled by right of strength.

A small frown hardened his features as he observed more than one man glancing at him slyly from the corner of his eye. He may have defeated Frieza and taken his head, but he had done nothing yet to prove that he was their new master. He pulled Bulma closer to him as they strode down the hall, glaring murderously at all possible threats.

They entered a room that housed five tanks and a surgical table. Once Vegeta was certain that no one else was in the room he left Bulma's side to program the nearest tank to accept a new patient. He had been badly wounded in his initial battle with the ice-jinn, but his transformation had helped heal the worst of his damage. He would only need about an hour in the tank to rejuvenate his depleted strength and blood loss.

Bulma turned to Zarbon, reaching out to take his hand. She cradled it between her palms as she looked up at her handsome friend. They had grown up together, survived the horrors of court life and now they had gained their freedom from their sadistic master. "I'm so glad that you are alive, my dear friend. I feared for your safety while back on Capital World."

Zarbon smiled down at her, still overwhelmed at the pleasure of seeing his oldest friend alive and well. Vegeta snorted at her words. If only his mate knew how close the man had come to death. He turned away from the tank, catching sight of another male touching his Bulma. He growled fiercely and took a step forward, but Zarbon was quicker. The man snatched his hand back from Bulma and stepped away from her while she glanced over her shoulder, directing a frown towards Vegeta, which he ignored. He continued to glare at the green man, who shifted his weight nervously while clearing his throat.

Bulma turned back to Zarbon, hiding her face as her frown faded and a smile curved at the corners of her lips. Zarbon blinked and took another step back to be sure. Bulma sighed and resigned herself to never touching another man, friendly or not, as long as she was mated to the most powerful male in the universe. She looked down at her stained shirt, plucking at the hem distastefully.

"Is there any place I can shower and get a change of clothes Zarbon?" Before he could respond to her request, Vegeta cut him off.

"You are not to leave this room, woman." Vegeta crossed his arms, watching as her back stiffened at his tone. No time like the present to get back into the habit of infuriating his mate. Some normalcy would restore their equilibrium. Besides, there was no way that he was going to let her out of his sight on a ship full of men that had only moments ago been informed of their new status as his servants. He had made many enemies throughout the years and until he was sure that he commanded the full loyalty of his new soldiers, his mate was going to have to stay by his side where he could protect her.

She whipped around to face him and he watched as she took a steadying breath. His mate always tried to count to ten before addressing anything that he had said that made her mad in the first place. Of course this technique rarely worked.

"But Vegeta, I'm dirty and I really want to take a shower." She wheedled, mistakenly thinking she could cajole him to her will rather than force him. He nodded his head to the left, motioning to the other side of the room.

"There's a shower woman. Use it." Her huge eyes swung to the left of the room, spotting a single shower that was nothing more than a nozzle and a drain in the floor. It was used to rinse the regeneration fluid from a person's body after getting out of the tank. It didn't even have hot water.

Vegeta watched with the same fascinated awe that he always did when her cheeks bloomed red with anger and her generous mouth thinned with displeasure. Her hands fisted at her sides as she turned back to him and he braced himself for the enraged shriek that was coming.

"I want a real shower. Not some two second rinse in freezing water." Vegeta cocked a brow as her words echoed around the room. Zarbon winced and took another step back towards the door. He loved his friend, but if she chose to speak to the deadly warrior in that tone, it was her own business. You can't help those who are suicidal.

With a whisper of displaced air, Vegeta was standing in front of Bulma, causing her to blink in surprise. He reached up his hand to brush her hair back from her cheek, before dropping his head down close to hers so Zarbon could not hear his words. Vegeta had been thinking for some time about Bulma's temperament and he had come to the conclusion that if he gave her a reasonable explanation for his actions, instead of ordering her around, she was much more manageable.

"Woman, this ship has just recently been commandeered by us. Some of the men may not have accepted me as their ruler. You could be in danger if you left this room." Vegeta didn't mention his other reason. The fact that he wasn't ready for her to be absent from his sight just yet. He still expected her to disappear in a whiff of smoke and be gone from his side forever. He needed her near him, reassuring him every second with her very presence that she wasn't going to abandon him.

Bulma stared up him with an owlish expression on her face. For a moment, she honestly didn't know what to do. What had happened to Vegeta to change him so much? She nodded her head slowly in agreement and she was rewarded with a genuine smile from her bloody prince that made her heart sing. Maybe being more flexible wouldn't be so bad if he kept smiling at her. Besides she had finally convinced him to speak to her about his concerns instead of demanding that she obey him like a lap dog. She was sure that he would snap at her in the future, but at least they were making headway. Maybe dying wasn't so bad after all, if it affected him this way.

Vegeta turned away from her, satisfaction curling in his gut. He had finally outsmarted his genius mate and circumvented a fight that would have lasted an hour. Of course, this wasn't as pleasurable as infuriating her, but he didn't have the stamina for that right now and he didn't want her sneaking off once he was incapacitated in the tank.

Bulma turned back to Zarbon, who now had one foot out the door, while a slight frown ghosted over her features. She couldn't get over the feeling that Vegeta thought he had pulled one over on her, but that frown disappeared when she realized how quickly they had fallen back into a comfortable routine together. Zarbon ascertained the situation and was already telling Bulma that he would be right back with clothes and some soap, before he darted out the door. He wasn't a coward. He just didn't want to be caught in the middle of a domestic squabble. Relationships, beyond the physical kind, were something that definitely made him nervous.

Bulma turned back in time to see Vegeta's shredded uniform fall to the ground in a tattered heap. Her breath hitched as her eyes roved over the hard planes of Vegeta's back, scarred by numerous beatings. She felt her heart wrench at the memory those marks represented. Some of them were wrought by Frieza's hand and Bulma felt a wave of exhilaration as she thought of the tyrant's death, but some were a reminder of his time spent as a prisoner of the Resistance. She had felt such loss and fear when he had been taken from her. Was that how Vegeta had felt when she had died? Was that why he was so different now? On the outside he was still the same hard warrior she had always known, but she could see something in his eyes, a haunting in his soul that only she noticed. Had something happened while he fought Frieza? Her eyes darted over to the gruesome head that Vegeta had placed on the surgical table, but she was drawn back to a much more alluring sight.

Her wandering eyes skimmed over the tight muscles of Vegeta's lower back and she noted that he deserved a massage as a reward for all the arduous tasks he had performed today. Her small tongue darted out to moisten her pink lips as she feasted on Vegeta' perfectly sculpted buttocks. It seemed like eternity since she had smoothed her hand over his flesh, but the memory was achingly fresh. She knew that he felt like heated velvet poured over solid marble and desire spiraled in her belly at the thought. He was hard and unyielding, but he fitted next to her soft curves like they were made for each other.

She watched in hypnotized fascination as his rich, dark brown tail waved absently, curling at the tip as though it was beckoning her to touch it. Her fingers began to itch with the need to stroke the appendage and memories of the sensation of it pressed against her core caused shivers of pleasure to cascade over her body.

Vegeta stepped into the tank and as he turned to face outwards she was treated to a breathtaking peek of his fully erect shaft. She gasped and her eyes darted up to meet his laughing gaze. Laughing? Was he amused by her? Bulma fought the urge to collapse into a dead faint. She could only handle so many shocks in a day.

Vegeta snatched up the oxygen mask and sat down on the bench waiting for the liquid to fill the tank. Teasing his Bulma was just as amusing as he remembered it and he looked forward to many long hours of satisfying the lust he had seen etched on her face. Her scent had been so potent while he disrobed that he hadn't been able to control his answering surge of desire. To further inflame her, he allowed his tail to unwind from his waist and wave at her insinuatingly. He never quite understood her fascination with his tail, but he had no reservations about using it to his advantage.

His eyes drifted closed as the fluid began to work its magic, trying to lure him into a cloud of contentment. He forced himself to remain aware of his surroundings, his senses honing in on his mate's faint ki. He lifted his lids, watching as Zarbon entered, exchanging words with Bulma while handing her some clothes and bottles, before leaving quickly. Vegeta smirked as he observed the formal way the verdant man treated his mate, without any of the previous familiarity he had displayed earlier. Now that he was in control, he would make damn sure that no other male would ever touch her again.

He felt a dangerous growl vibrate in his chest as unwelcome thoughts intruded on him. His cold eyes glared at the grisly visage of his dead master, Frieza's words ringing in his head. Vegeta had made a partial amends for his sins against his mate with the figment that haunted him on the battlefield, but his flesh and blood Bulma still suffered. He pulled his gaze away from the severed head of his enemy, choosing to look at something more appealing. He watched as his mate paced over to the shower area, which was in clear view of his tank, to place the clothes on a nearby chair.

Should he bring up his dishonorable actions that had brought her such pain? Should he stir up those memories? He watched as she gracefully moved over to a nearby shelf, picking up a large specimen jar and tucking it under her arm. She deserved something from him, but what? An apology? He didn't think he could wring those words from his lips again, even if they did screech in his head. He had too much pride, too much arrogance.

She walked up to Frieza's head and with only the slightest hesitation, her trembling hands darted out to snatch it up, dropping it into the jar with a sneer of disgust. Vegeta watched her curiously, wondering what she could possibly be doing. She moved over to a small steel tank, placing the jar under a spigot and turning it on. Yellowish liquid poured into the jar and Frieza's head bobbed ghoulishly. Vegeta realized that Bulma was preserving the head, making sure that his trophy would remain pristine until he could get it stuffed and mounted on his wall. His mate was always thinking of him and it warmed his heart. He didn't think he would ever get used to someone who took into account his needs and desires and moved to fulfill them for the sheer pleasure of making him happy instead of trying to avoid being incinerated by his wrath.

She screwed on the lid to the jar and placed it squarely on the table, where it would be safe. He wouldn't mention the past to her. He would treat her with the reverence that she deserved as his queen, as his mate and he would make sure that no one would ever hurt her again. He would spend his life making amends by keeping her safe and happy. If she ever wanted to mention her experiences to him he would listen, it would drive him insane, but he would bear it for her. He owed it to her.

She stood by the shower now, turning the knob while testing the water. She frowned with annoyance as the spray turned from cold to down right icy. He made a mental note to make sure that she had the opportunity to soak in a bubble bath by the night's end. She adored spending hours pruning in the tub and it had been the center of many fights back on Primus, where they only had one bathroom to share. He smirked devilishly at the tantalizing thought of his mate clothed in a shimmering gown of bubbles. Of course, he would be her side to make sure that she was safe. After all, rubber duckies could be quite dangerous if provoked.

She dropped her bedraggled clothes to the floor, stripping quickly and efficiently while shivering as the air blew over her sensitive skin. She stepped under the cold spray, hissing as the water hit her, causing her flesh to pimple. She began to pant as her heart raced to pump blood through her veins, rushing it to the surface to try and warm her rapidly chilling body. Vegeta felt his own chest heave and he realized that he was panting as well, but for a completely different reason. All of his blood was rushing south, leaving him light-headed.

He watched, enthralled with the bounce of her full breasts as the water ran down over her ivory hued flesh, her nipples pebbling and turning dusky under the spray. She snatched up a bar of soup, hastily lathering herself while taking the time to make sure she was thoroughly clean. She had spent some time in a prison cell without any of the conveniences she was used to and she felt grimy.

Vegeta felt his body tighten, as the suds slipped over her skin, sliding down her breasts, to trail over her slightly rounded stomach. He absorbed the changes in her body from bearing his heir. Her breasts were riper, her hips rounder, her body was lush and utterly bitable. He ached with the need to hold her against him, to feel her soft curves melt into him as he caressed her satin skin. He needed to taste her, drink her, to consume her.

She bent over to retrieve a small bottle and he tilted his head slightly to the side so he could get a complete view her tantalizing backside. He grit his teeth as need clawed at his gut, his arousal becoming painful even with the sedatives that he absorbed through the murky fluid. She straightened, pouring a creamy substance in the center of her palm. She stretched her arms up as her head lolled back on her delicate neck causing her breasts to jut forward and giving him a perfect view of her profile.

Her eyes fluttered closed and her pink lips parted as her breaths continued to came quick and hard. Her cheeks were flushed and the rosy color spread down over her chest. She looked like she was in the throes of an orgasm and Vegeta could barely restrain himself. Her long teal hair waved down to her waist, the wet tips sticking to her lower back, teasing the crest of her rounded bottom. She worked the soap through her tresses, making sure not to miss a strand before rinsing it clean.

Vegeta didn't think he could take anymore. He could feel his ki starting to raise, his animal instincts taking over. If the tank did not release him soon, it would explode under the force of his aura. She finished her shower and hopped out of the stall, snatching up a towel and briskly rubbing herself dry. She flipped over again, making the Saiyan groan in pain as she wrapped up her hair in the cloth. How do woman do that? He wondered absently as she stood up and shook out the set of garments that sat on the chair.

He watched as she stepped into a pair of loose-legged airy white pants, chuckling as she studied her newest dilemma. The pants were obviously owned by a man, probably plundered from Zarbon's closet and they were much to long for her. After a moment of consideration, she decided on folding the waist over a couple of times before securing it with a cloth belt she had been provided. She lifted her pale foot and placed it on the chair to turn up the cuff of her pant leg.

Vegeta fought the urge to bang his head against the glass as the material clung to her still damp bottom, turning opaque from the moisture. She still hadn't put on the top and her breasts dangled, begging him to stalk up behind her and cup them in his palms. She grabbed up the flowing white shirt, made of the same material as her pants and dropped it over her head. It fell to well below the curve of her bottom and the sleeves poured over her hands. She turned towards him while she busied herself folding up the sleeves and Vegeta gulped. Would the pain never end? Too long had he been without his mate, without her soft touch. His body screamed for release.

The top opened into a deep vee, reaching to down her midriff. He growled as she began to lace the strays, closing the alluring gap. Even after she was laced up, the top still gaped low on her chest, revealing the swell of her breasts to his gaze. The material gathered under the curve, her pink nipples clearly visible under the damp cloth.

She sat down on the chair, dropping her head between her knees as she began to scrunch her hair dry with the towel. Unexpectedly the tank dinged, signifying the end of the regeneration cycle and Bulma's blue eyes shot up to meet his. She inhaled sharply when she saw the smoky desire burning in their ebony depths. Bulma had completely forgotten that Vegeta never surrendered to sleep while in the tank and her cheeks heated with the realization that he had watched her every move.

She felt a tug deep inside of her when she looked at her handsome lover. She could feel his call, the primal cry of one mate to another. Unaware, she moved towards him like she was floating on a cloud, only seeing the need that howled inside of him. Her body ached to sooth his, to claim her own pleasure while satisfying him. As the fluid drained away, he regained partial movement and his hand darted up to lay flat against the window. Without thought she reached up, pressing her palm against his, only the thin glass separating them. Briefly she was reminded of the first time their eyes had met. It seemed like it was so long ago, another life, a different time. He had been floating in a similar tank, his enemy dead at her feet and her life blood draining away, but she remembered the impact his ebony eyes had on her. Deep down, she had always known that he was the one. The one that fate had chosen for her.

The last of the fluid swirled away and Vegeta ripped the mask from his face while reaching for the handle to the door. Unfortunately for Zarbon, he chose that moment to walk into the room. He didn't miss the heated blush on Bulma's face as she whirled around to face him and he definitely noticed the ferocious growl that emanated from the vicinity of his new lord. He damned himself for his timing, in much the same way the other inhabitants in the room were doing. Zarbon rolled his eyes, he was thrice damned and there was no beautiful angel in his immediate future to save him.

"I prepared a room for you and made sure that there was plenty of food to satisfy your appetites." Zarbon smirked at the pair. As the top court courtesan he was an expert when it came to seduction. He had personally selected the items on the menu for their sensual nature, knowing that he would more than likely not see the royal couple for several days.

"I have taken the liberty of placing you in my own personal quarters. I thought they may be more comfortable." Zarbon held his breath, hoping that Vegeta did not explode in rage for an imagined insult. He knew that Bulma would want avoid Frieza's bedchamber, but Vegeta may want to lay claim to what was rightfully his. Bulma flashed her friend a grateful look and both were shocked when Vegeta remained quiet.

Vegeta ignored the tension in the room, but he was silently thankful to the concubine for being intuitive enough to tactfully avoid a potential problem. He stalked over to the shower, turning on the water. Without hesitation he stepped under the spray, allowing the regeneration fluid to be washed away. Damn! The water was cold! He was surprised that the woman hadn't shrieked loud enough to be heard across the ship. He quickly rinsed and jumped out of the shower, drying off before walking to a nearby locker to retrieve a standard issue uniform.

When they returned to Capital World, Vegeta would have the ice-jinn's rooms gutted and he would allow his mate to redecorate them to her taste or if it pleased her he would have the entire ship torn apart for scrap metal. This thought took him down another unpleasant path and he promised himself that he would build her a new palace as well. He would have the tyrant's home that lay in a cold mountain region, demolished and they would relocate to a warmer clime, building something that suited them.

He finished dressing and he walked up to his mate, grasping her by the arm, pulling her from the room. It was time to cleanse his mind of these thoughts and banish all memory of the ice-jinn from his mate's mind. He intended on branding her with his heated touch and even hotter mouth until nothing else remained.

Zarbon followed behind, silently laughing as the two lovers practically raced down the corridors.