Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ And We Were Angels ❯ Comforting Soul ( Chapter 7 )

I would like to take this moment to say thank you for all the wonderful support I have gotten so far. To my Beta Sue, I really appreciate all the time your putting into this for me. To my muses, Barb for demanding more Bardock and letting me know when I am just off, and TG for listening to me ramble on the phone for hours when she doesn't even like BV.

And We Were Angels

By: AMCM74

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Chapter 7 - Comforting Soul

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She looked at Vegeta with such utter astonishment, that he was locked in place. This was the last thing he wanted to do, to become visible to her. He held her in his arms almost as if she were predestined to be there. The curve of her body was fitting into his as if they were pieces of the same puzzle. He knew that couldn't be further from the truth. She was a mortal woman, he reminded himself, and he was a timeless angel. He had been sent to save her life, and if at all possible, her soul.

So why then did he feel this compelling force drawing him closer to her? He almost felt an internal ache as her shining eyes, as blue as the sky clashed against his midnight black ones. Yes that was it. She was like the day, bright and glorious, open for all to see. While he was shrouded in legend and mystery, only appearing when most needed. There was no doubt in that moment that he was most needed by this delicate mortal creature. He allowed his gaze to drop to her trembling red lips and watched them move. He was so transfixed by her that he failed to comprehend her words. "Excuse me?" Vegeta collected his wits and forced himself to attend the matter at hand. Comforting her sad and lonely soul.

"Are you real?" Bulma felt her hand relax and the pills where released on the table once more. The other hand rose slowly to touch the one resting on her shoulder.

Pure energy burned through him at the soft sensation the pads of her fingers evoked. "It would be better for us both if you decide I am nothing more than a fantasy." He looked to the window. The expressions on his face were those of extreme discomfort. The kind of discomfort that comes when one cares too much.

That look alone spoke volumes. In that instant, Bulma knew he was real. He was an angel just for her, one who had been sent to comfort her soul and ease her pain. She turned around to face him in one swift movement. The one thing she had needed this past week was finally her's for the taking. Another being there for her to cling to.

Vegeta wrapped his arms around her and held her to his chest. He hesitantly drew his fingers through her hair. "You put me through an awful fright there woman. You forced my hand in appearing like this. I was simply out of options."

She rested her cheek against his chest and muttered, "You could have let me go."

"Ah yes, allow you to take your life in a sorry moment of self pity?" The voice was rough but his arms were tender. "Not on my watch. You are my charge. It is my duty to protect you and I will not fail."

"They have not placed you with an easy assignment." Bulma titled her head up to face him. "I have not had the best of luck lately."

"Tell it to Pharaoh" Vegeta snorted. He looked down at the lovely face looking up at his in wonder. "Pharaoh. He held the Israelites as slaves. Moses went to free them and we rained plagues down upon the Pharaoh." Bulma blinked and shook her head. "Well, it really wasn't us. It was mostly Bardock. God gives him an inch and the Angel of War takes a mile."

"What are they like?" Bulma whispered, and Vegeta shivered at the sound of her question.

The soft reverberation of her voice against his throat was like slow torture, as her hot breath chipped at his resolve. "Who?" Vegeta willed the lustful fog to clear away so that he could hear her words.

"Angels." Bulma leaned back to get a better look at him.

Vegeta wanted to reach out and pull her back. In his mind he saw himself grabbing her arms and pulling her mouth to his. He envisioned hot kisses, and ignited passion as their tongues dueled. "We are..." He closed his eyes and shrugged. "We are as we are. The same as mortals I suppose. Each with different looks and personalities."

Bulma let her body fall to the side and she stared at his back. "I always thought that angels were suppose to have wings, with feathers of silvery white."

"We do."

"I don't see any." She reached up to run her hand over his back. The satiny smoothness of the shirt allowed her to feel as though she was touching his skin.

Vegeta was happy to escape her seductive inspection of his person. He moved off the bed and stood before her. "It is because I chose my human form to appear before you."

"You mean you don't really look like that?" Bulma felt her shoulders sag a bit. It was a very depressing thought that her gorgeous angel didn't really look as he appeared. She frowned and supposed it was for the best. All she wanted to do was trail her hands all over him. She had never seen anything as perfect as him.

"You're wicked." Vegeta smirked.

"Excuse me." Bulma sat up and paled. Had he read her mind?

"Yes, you are my charge. All your thoughts are mine to know."

"Oh my Go... I mean Oh dear." Bulma blushed and put her hand to her mouth to stifle the giggle. "I guess I should apologize then."

"Would you like to see my true form? Then you can decide if you are disappointed or not?" Vegeta moved to the center of the room, and awaited her word.

"Go ahead." She was feeling breathless. How many people have gone through their entire lives and have never seen what she was about to see.

Vegeta bowed his head and crossed his hands over his chest. He exhaled slowly and let his arms extend to his sides. As he moved, the white light began to burn brightly behind him. The silvery outline of large, white wings took form. They were so magnificent that Bulma had to shield her eyes from them.

When she was finally able to look again, he stood before her glowing with a heavenly light. The white glow surrounding him, the wings were not something akin to the tiny cherubs you saw on murals and Valentine's Day cards. They were enormous and obviously capable of flight.

Bulma came off the bed and walked toward him. She saw that in his true form he had not changed. Yes, he was bathed in white light and large wings stretched out behind him, but the rest of him was just as breathtaking as before. Perhaps even more so.

Vegeta awaited her reaction to his full Angelic being before her with a feeling almost akin to excitement.

Bulma stood before him with eyes like a child at Christmas time. "You are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen." Then before she could control herself she reached out and cupped his face in her hands. She leaned in pulling him to her so suddenly and without thought that Vegeta could hardly react.

A groan escaped his chest as he found himself entrapped by his fantasy. It was as if his desire had been so powerful that it brought it into being. He could not resist her tempting call. It left him but one method of action. He locked his arms around her. Vegeta pulled Bulma as close as he could, as he selfishly sought out her mortal warmth.

She emitted a soft sigh and rewarded him by intensifying her kiss. He was lost. Vegeta did not even know how it was possible for their contact to become more arousing and erotic.

He let his arms move up her back, his large hands entangling themselves in blue strands of hair. Breaking the kiss he groaned with regret. "I...I can not."

"But you are my angel. You were sent here for me." Bulma whispered. She lowered her mouth to plant steamy butterfly kisses over his throat.

"It has been forbidden for a very long time." Vegeta sought to reclaim his control. The smell of alcohol drifted up to him and he realized bitterly that her reactions were influenced by the intoxicating effects. "I am sorry to do this, woman." He reached up and let his hand fall over her eyes. He looked at the ground as the light intensified under his hand.

Vegeta pulled it away and felt her body go limp in his arms. He lifted her and moved to the bed. "I really hated having to do that." He whispered as he pulled the blankets over her.

He turned and sat on the bed, back in his mortal looking form, brooding. He wished that Goku would arrive and berate him for his actions, to drill his responsibility and position back into his head. Vegeta would even welcome Radditz' intervention at this point. Anything was better then the enticement that lay just behind him. He had no choice. He had to remain with his charge, but after what had just transpired he didn't want to be alone with her. The heart might be strong, but the flesh was weak.

He leaned down and brushed the strand of hair away from her face. She was like some enchantment that had been cast upon him. All the traps of the mortal plane, all wrapped up and tightly entwined in one blue and white package.

He was drawn to her like nothing he had ever encountered before. So taken in by her face and his thoughts. It was stunning and yet relieving to feel his lips touching hers. Still the sweet and innocent contact soon changed as she moaned beneath him and arched into his caress.

"My angel"...

Vegeta ripped back so fast he stumbled back and fell on the floor. Sitting there amongst the broken shards of glass he narrowed his eyes, hating himself. How could he let himself lose his control like this? How could he allow this one mortal of the millions he had dealt with reap such havoc on his mind.

She sighed and rolled over. The effects of his memory drain were wearing off and she would be awake again. One thing was for certain; he could not be here when she regained consciousness. It was not like him to abandon his charge, but at this instant it was the best course of action. She was truly safer as she was, without his interference.

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Bulma awoke and put her hand to her throbbing head. She gasped as she noticed the cuts that speckled her skin. The dried bits of blood were smudged and darkened. "What was I thinking?" She tossed aside the blankets and looked around the room. It reeked of alcohol. There were shards of broken glass everywhere.

"Ugh." Bulma spat in disgust. "What did I do?" She clenched her head and moaned. "Damn, did I drink that much?"

Carefully she maneuvered through the bits of shattered red glass. Something white caught her eyes and she leaned over and picked up a pill. She held it close to her squinting eyes and brushed the hair from her face. It was one of her sleeping pills. Paling, she looked around the room.

"I didn't try to... I couldn't have..." She stumbled back as flashes of the Bacardi bottle posed in the air. The stinging pain as the glass cut her skin.

Bulma rushed around the corner into the bathroom and slid to her knees. She wretched violently as the realization of what she had almost done to herself sunk in. Some of it was the over indulgence of rum, but the majority of her sickness was nerves.

She stood up and rinsed her mouth out. Hanging weakly over her sink she gasped rapidly for air. Slowly she raised her head to the mirror and stared at her reflection.

A trembling hand rose to puffy lips that looked as if they had been roughly and thoroughly kissed. As her fingertips touched them she buckled over again, assaulted by more memories.

The dark eyes, the white wings, I am your angel. She could see him in her mind's eyes, the feeling of his hands in her hair and the touch of his lips brushing against hers.

It could all be nothing more then a dream. Bulma turned and reached out for the bathroom door. Looking over the room, she scanned it for any sign that he existed. She ached for him to appear and comfort her again in those strong and tender arms.

Her visual search came up empty. Defeatedly, she returned to her bed making her way around the mess on the floor. Sliding down into the sheets she sighed deeply. It was nothing more than a dream. A lovely dream, she buried her face in the pillow and reached out to pull the blanket over her shoulder. She froze and looked down at her hand holding the material. Letting go she pulled back to reveal one shining white feather.

Her blue eyes widened with joy and she pulled it up to hold it to her chest. He was real. Now she was sure of it, and if he were real then she would see him again. She could hardly wait. Cradling her treasure she drifted back to sleep.

A large hand brushed her hair for a moment before pulling away. Radditz reached back and rubbed his wing. Plucking the feather had hurt, but the slight pain was defiantly worth the cost.

After Vegeta had so cowardly retreated, it had been his pleasure to reverse Vegeta's memory draining effect. Slowly the images would all return to her, save the hot moment she had spent in his arms through that passing fogged night. Radditz chuckled darkly. Now confronting Vegeta with the simple details would be a joy to behold indeed.