Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Camoflage ❯ Chapter 1

Camouflage

"He'll never marry you, Bulma. From what I hear, Saiyan warriors only fuck females to reproduce. The rest of the time they prefer to fuck each other."

Vegeta froze at the sound of Yamcha's voice around the corner. He couldn't believe what he was hearing! How dare he tell the woman such things?! How dare he stick his nose in where it didn't belong?! It was none of his business why they had not married yet. He had his chance with her and she rejected him.

"Don't be such a jackass, Yamcha," Bulma said. "Where in the world did you hear that?"

Vegeta held his breath. He wanted to know the answer to that question himself. His knuckles were white from the way he was strangling the towel he had draped around his neck after wiping the sweat of training off his face. He would prefer the cloth be the man's neck, but also wanted to hear the end of the conversation before making his presence known.

"Remember when we went into the Pendulum Room of Time and Space up on Kami's Lookout?" Yamcha asked. "Well, we ended up on a planet that some Saiyans had just purged. I mean the whole fuckin' planet was destroyed! There were only a couple Saiyans left, but they were so strong, they wiped us out in a matter of minutes!"

Vegeta struggled to hold his laughter down to a smirk. He had heard this part before. Somehow, the room had transported them into the past where, from what he gathered, they fought two low-class soldiers that weren't even fit to lick dung from his royal boots! Even though the soldiers were pitifully weak, they had no trouble disposing of the earthlings. He would have loved to have been able to see the look of defeat on their faces!

"And the topic of Saiyan sexual preferences just happened come up in the middle of this battle?" Bulma asked in her usual sarcastic bite.

Vegeta had to admit, she was perfect woman to carry his son. Strong-willed, sarcastic, intelligent, quick-witted -- just what his father would have picked for him to produce the royal heir.

"Well. . .yeah." Yamcha shifted uneasily in his chair. "You remember how long my hair was then? Well. . .one of them came up behind me and. . .I mean he thought I was. . .he said. . ."

The veins in Vegeta's neck stood out with the pressure he was exerting to keep himself from bursting out in laughter. From the back, he knew what the Saiyan had assumed.

"Are you trying to tell me he thought you were a girl?" Bulma burst out laughing. "And he, what, accosted you? Felt you up? I've gotta hear this!"

With the cover of Bulma's loud laughter, Vegeta let a series of quiet snorts escape through his nostrils. By now, he had resorted to biting his lips to keep from making any, more noticeable, sounds.

"Yeah, something like that," Yamcha agreed. Even through his embarassment, he somehow went on. "He came up behind me and. . .his arm was around my neck so I couldn't move. . .then he. . ."

Yamcha paused when Vegeta heard Bulma fall off her chair. She rolled back and forth, howling with laughter. With the extra noise of her kicking feet, Vegeta gave a few chuckles of his own.

"The point is," Yamcha continued, raising his voice over Bulma's fit, "he told me that Saiyans only fuck women to have kids, but he would make an exception for me."

Vegeta was glad that particular Saiyan was long dead, or he would have been forced to hunt him down and kill the bastard himself. Just to suggest such a thing to an enemy showed a severe lack of discipline. It just went to show how lax the ones in authority had gotten and why Frieza had been able to sneak passed their defenses so easily.

"When he grabbed my dick, he was even more excited. That's when he said Saiyans really preferred fucking other warriors."

Vegeta could picture the entire scene in great detail in his mind. The strong soldier holding the weak earthling by the neck. The look of complete helplessness on Yamcha's face. The surprise that awaited the soldier's hand between his legs.

"He was just messing with you, Yamcha. Isn't that a battlefield tactic? Screwing with the enemy's minds?" The pun sent Bulma into another laughing spree.

Vegeta was glad Bulma wasn't buying any of Yamcha's story. He couldn't understand why she still considered him a friend and let him drop by anytime he wanted. He was worse than just an annoyance; he was a complete idiot. If Vegeta wasn't positive Bulma would kick him out of the house for doing it, he would have put the weakling out of his misery long before this. He owed his life to Vegeta and his reluctance to find another place to live.

"I'm serious, Bulma! When I mentioned it to Goku, he said. . ."

"Who cares what that clown, Kakarot says!" Vegeta interrupted, making his presence known by walking around the corner. "I'm hungry and I don't smell anything cooking yet!"

It was almost comical the way Yamcha jumped out of his chair at the sound of Vegeta's booming voice. He gave the weaker man a deadly glare that send him scurrying away with the quickest of goodbyes for Bulma.

"Sorry, Vegeta," Bulma said, still wiping tears from her eyes as she struggled to pick herself up off the floor. "I guess I lost track of time."

Vegeta didn't even consider helping her even though she was nearing the end of her pregnancy. If she wasn't strong enough to handle her own growing size, she wasn't strong enough to bear his child. Not surprisingly, she managed just fine.

"I'll go get something started."

"Never mind," he said with a dismissive wave and turned to head upstairs to shower. "Just call for pizza. And tell them to hurry. I'm going somewhere."

If Bulma suspected, or even wondered, where Vegeta was going, she never mentioned it. She just closed the door after him as he flew off and lugged her swollen stomach to bed. She never looked a gift horse in the mouth, and she was thankful for the extra time to herself without having to cater to the father of her unborn baby.