Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Closer ❯ Coping ( Chapter 15 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: Vegeta-Sugar-Sweet 
Dealing with changes and new realizations
Anime/Manga: Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Adventure | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 12.12.2010 | Pages: 2 | Words: 3.0K | Visits: 910 | Status: Work In Progress
Dealing with changes and new realizations
Anime/Manga: Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Adventure | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 12.12.2010 | Pages: 2 | Words: 3.0K | Visits: 910 | Status: Work In Progress
I don't own it...don't make me come over there! Also, if you would, please review. It helps to improve my style and of course increases reader enjoyment.
'What the hell happened?' Yamcha internally postulated. He stared at the well-decorated walls of his guest room. The wall was blood red with ornate gold leaves stitched through it. Normally Yamcha would have appreciated the intricate wood carved, queen sized bed, but his mind was shot. Bulma had forsaken him after 10 years of love and devotion—well not really 10 years, it was up and down. But still, she was his. It was almost as if it were written in stone since the day they met in the sweltering desert. He was so shy back then, but Bulma was determined to have him. She doggedly pursued him and pressed him to be a better man than he was. No amount of gallivanting around in sand was going to help him in that respect.
The former bandit was bummed out and was about to re-pack when his door was opened.
“On my planet, we knock,” he said testily, crouching in a near fight stance.
“Oh, spare me human. I have come to help you win back your lady.”
Standing in front of the now closed door was a beautiful creature.
“Lady Grace, right?” asked Yamcha as he straightened.
“Not just Lady Grace, but future Queen of this planet, um....uh....”
“Yamcha,” he helped
“Yes.... Yamcha.” Grace placed a finger on her chin and committed the name to memory. He could help rid her of the bedraggled foreign woman, then the Prince would be hers for the taking. Her luscious lips curved at the thought of manipulating this male into doing her bidding.
“So, what is it that you want, Lady?”
“As I said, I am here to help you. You are no doubt aware that my betrothed is taken with your...woman?”
Yamcha's mouth gaped. “WHAT? If that animal thinks he is going to take what is mine he has another thing coming!” he yelled.
“Believe me...eh Yamcha, we have the same goal. Having a foreign Queen would dilute the royal bloodline, creating a stain upon our heritage. Not to mention the great potential such a situation would have to tear our world apart.” Grace sounded so noble and brave. She should have been rewarded for such an acting performance. All she wanted was the title, power, and to make that bitch pay for thinking she could take what was lawfully hers. Other than that, she really could care less about the rest of it.
Strolling across the thick nap of the carpet, Yamcha extended his hand. “Whatever I have to do to get my Bulma off this war world, I will do it...even if I have to make a deal with Satan himself.” Grace tamped down her disgust at touching the human. She took his hand and shook it. Departing, she flashed a smile. “Your woman meditates daily in the training room. When she is not there she is at work in the labs. Get to work on reminding her of your relationship. I will take care of the Prince.”
Yamcha cocked a smile and nodded. Hope raised its head in his heart. He could win her back, he'd done it before. This time he would put his best efforts into making her the center of his world. She would come to love him even more than she had in the past. She would be his and they would love each other---forever and beyond.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“OUCH, Fucking hell!” Bulma swore as she burnt her hand again while soldering a chip. Her confused mind was making it more difficult to work. She had to stop herself a billion times from contacting her father and giving him the tongue lashing of a lifetime for helping him get here in the first place. But that wouldn't help the situation. She huffed, blew out an angry breath, and bandaged her battered hand.
'Yamcha—what the hell was he doing on this planet?' she obsessed. 'Weren't they over? Why would he come for her.? What the hell would she do with Vegeta. Oh gods, Vegeta...how he must hate her now.'
She had successfully avoided the Prince by keeping her Ki low, working odd hours, and secreting herself in places he would not expect. She thought he even tried to probe her mind but the connection was weak and it was easy to block.
Her technicians gave her wide berth ever since the day Yamcha came to the planet. She wasn't blatantly abusing them but her answers were short and she was quick to anger if challenged. Common wisdom taught them to work quickly and quietly to be sure not to incur Bulma's wrath.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The scientists kept working around the clock, mass producing the training modules approved by the ruling monarch. King and Prince viewed the latest training results and were impressed. Not only were their warriors more powerful, but they were also learning at a phenomenal pace. Incorporating new techniques along with increased strength and stamina would allow the Saiyan race to challenge Ice-jins, bend them to their will, and obliterate their frosty asses from the galaxy.
“Our faith in the human woman has been well placed, it seems,” said the King.
The Prince closed his eyes and swallowed his anger in the face of this statement. “Apparently,” he answered flatly. “Have we any new information on Ice-jin movement since they began pillaging our allies?”
The King shook his head and wrinkled his brow. “Frieza has been too quiet. It is possible he is relying on surprise to aid any possible attack. Until then, we must move to increase our knowledge of his movements.”
Prince Vegeta nodded solemnly. His father was well versed in strategies and espionage. They needed to increase their current leverage now more than ever in order to battle the scaly, powerful, emperor.
Vegeta turned and caressed the door of his personal training unit. Yes, these inventions were a boon to his race but that paled in comparison to his current situation. The Woman, his Woman, had hidden herself from him. When the vile human male had shown himself, he could feel the fear and confusion in the Woman's heart. Vegeta gritted his teeth as the thought crossed his mind. He was so very proud of her when she turned from the scar faced one and never even looked back. But there was a price to pay for her stoic performance. The Prince was also now suffering the void left in his life by her disappearance.
He was so frustrated. The cunning girl was always one step ahead of him, avoiding his presence yet still proving useful to the empire. Meanwhile, he was subjected to the boring conversation of Grace, ever angling to increase her chances of bedding him. Always touching, groping, and grasping at any public event where her presence with him was required. 'Fat chance, whore' he thought. She would never have him. Not after he tasted the sweet nectar of Bulma, the woman that awoke his sleeping heart and challenged him at every turn.
The Prince wanted to tear the palace apart to find her. He wanted to drag her back to his bed and take her over and over until she passed out or begged for mercy. However, he knew following that course of action would not pay dividends. He would have to continue dedicating himself to training, along with patience earned through meditation. She would come to him, he knew she would.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Raising up from her desk, Bulma stretched up and cracked her back. Damn she was tired of keeping these off hours, but she was unable to clearly deal with the two males plaguing her thoughts at the moment. Sleep was taken in small doses and only when necessary. Until she could clear her confusion, she had to put her mind to work elsewhere.
So to keep busy, she redesigned the ships of war for the Sayian fleet. Bulma almost chuckled when she saw what they had been using for space travel. Immediately she saw endless possibilities and couldn't stop thinking of ways to improve their design. With her help, the ships were now more sleek with cloaking capabilities. Encapsulation was a given of course, but also included was a full training module that was constantly in sync with the pillar databases so that every Sayian could still train at their set pace no matter where they were stationed.
Twisting her wrist, Bulma read her watch. '2:39am, already--hmm I guess time flies while practicing avoidance,' she thought.
Bulma decided that a change of venue was in order. She stripped her lab coat and doused the lights. Keeping her Ki as low as possible, she made it to the training module. Sniffing the air, she was reminded of her prince. He had been here training heavily, sweating tiny rivulets down his perfectly chiseled pecs. Bulma nearly lost her head at the thought of the Prince performing his morning katas; muscles rippling and taut, his breathing syncing his heart rate, eyes focused and ready. She almost moaned as her body began to react to her imagination. She needed to occupy herself or she would end up following on her impulse instead of being guided by rational thought.
Mentally kicking herself, she replaced her clothes with workout gear.
“Computer,” she called. “Sugar Ray Robinson simulation. Mode: instruct. Speed: thrice normal. Music: Remember the Name by Fort Minor.”
After heeding her instructions, the former great middleweight boxing champion appeared beside her. Just as she had asked, the wordless lesson commenced at three times the normal rate. In no time she was slipping sneaky jabs and repeating fiery barrages that would always drive the former champion's opponents insane. The driving rhythm of the music was perfect for helping her keep up with Robinson while also driving thoughts from her head.
Chorus:
This is ten percent luck, twenty percent skill
Fifteen percent concentrated power of will
Five percent pleasure, fifty percent pain
And a hundred percent reason to remember the name
Yamcha looked on through the window of the training room. He knew her habits. She had done this hide-and-go-seek bit before when he had screwed up. He just had no idea that he would find her here in the training room. Last time she disappeared he found her in a meadow, lying flat on her back, searching the stars for guidance. He'd approached her and although she was skittish at first, they talked all night until she had forgiven him. At the time he thought he was wasting his breath but in retrospect, it was a small price to pay just to have her near him.
It was almost as if he was dreaming. Bulma was training! His Bulma was in front of him training quite well with a boxer from their planet. And at an incredible speed no less. She looked as if she were born to train and nothing else. Her muscle tone was exceptional to say the least. Last time he had seen her, she had been dressed to the 9s and looking fantastic but seeing her in this fashion gave him an entirely new appreciation for her body.
Her technique was effective and efficient. Her ample breasts were rising and falling before his eyes, she not at all winded, very controlled in fact, like a true warrior.
Opening the door, Yamcha was assaulted by the loud base that drove the music Bulma had chosen. He covered his ears and began to approach her. Bulma stopped and called a halt to the program. She could feel someone behind her. Quicker than a hiccup, Yamcha found himself being pulled and flipped over onto the floor mat.
“Yamcha, what are you doing here, trying to scare me to death?”
Yamcha rubbed his sore bottom and stood. “Sorry Babe, you know I didn't mean it.” He stepped forward and Bulma stepped back. It was clear she wanted to keep her distance.
In a small voice Bulma asked “Why are you here?” She dropped her head and turned away. “You said the most horrible things to me that night. Shattered my soul along with belief in myself. Why would you come here after such a successful campaign to be rid of me?” She didn't want to be swayed by his charm. She wanted the truth...if he was capable.
“I have played that night over and over in my mind, Bulma. It was supposed to be perfect. I wanted that for us.” Yamcha ran a hand over his haggard face. “I wanted to marry you, I still do...”
“Really, you have another fake ring to pawn off on me?” Bulma spat, still not turning around.
“I have no excuse for the ring,” Yamcha admitted. “I was proposing to the richest most brilliant woman on the planet, yet I couldn't afford the perfect ring for her”
Bulma then turned and looked at him incredulously. “Do you think I would have given a damn if you gave me the smallest diamond in the world? Am I that shallow to you? Did you think so little of me?” Bulma's eyes were stinging with unshed tears. “It was the sentiment behind the action, Yamcha. I can buy what I please but your love, that was what was supposed to be genuine. Your speech after being caught offering the ring was really enough to say it all.” She rubbed her face, swiping at the few tears that began to flow. “You didn't respect me, Yamcha. You made me feel like I was cheap and dirty. You broke my heart—but you know all this. Why have you come?” Bulma demanded
Yamcha boldly stepped forward and reached out to touch Bulma's cheek. “I do love you and respect you, Babe.” Bulma scoffed. “It's true! Ever since that night I have been trying to work out how I can prove to you that I am the man for you, always and for ever.” He tipped her chin up and looked her directly in the eyes. “For all of the hurt and the pain, I am sorry. For every night you have suffered ever, I am sorry. It is with all sincerity that I vow to earn your trust and your love.” One lone tear fell from his deep dark eyes, splashing down on his front.
Bulma was moved by his admission. She knew that she should leave but she didn't want to go. The part of her that was still his, rooted her body to the spot. She wanted to hear more of his promises and declarations of love and forever.
Slowly lowering his face to hers, Yamcha continued. “I've missed you so much. My life—hell my soul has been empty without you to fill it. I need you to be with me always. And no matter how long it takes, I will do whatever I must for you to become my wife.” His lips were close to hers now. He whispered “I want to be your one and only lover. For the rest of our lives, let us belong only to each other.”
Just as his lips touched hers, Bulma jumped back as if burned by fire. She looked him in the eye shook her head.
“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to move so fast, Babe.”
“It's not that, Yamcha”
“Then what...?” Yamcha stopped and nearly choked on the air he was breathing.
Bulma wanted to look away but something inside her told her not to be ashamed. “I am in love, Yamcha. We were together the night before you arrived.”
Now it was time for his heart to break. His pure and perfect love had been taken by another.
“But how? Who? Weren't we meant to be together?” Yamcha was grasping for anything that would help him make sense of this new information.
“He is Prince Vegeta. He has asked for my hand and I have accepted. We still have to make it formal with the people of his planet.”
Tears ran unchecked down Yamcha's anguished face. “Why not me? You could have given yourself to me!”
Bulma nearly rolled her eyes “Oh Yamcha! With all the make ups and break ups along with the rampant cheating you did when you thought I wasn't looking, how could I have given myself to you? It never felt like you loved me the person, you just wanted to possess me.”
Dropping to his knees, he hugged Bulma around the middle. “Please, Babe, I can be better,” he whispered hoarsely.
Bulma reached around and disengaged his arms from her body. “Oh, why did you have to learn to truly love me so late? I'm so sorry, so very sorry.” Bulma turned and left the chamber. It was then that Yamcha let out an anguished howl while tears flooded his face.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Frieza looked down at the model before him. The technology was well beyond anything his small-brained scientists had presented. He was not sure how this module would take the monkeys from pathetic to powerful, but it wouldn't hurt for his master technicians to have a look. “Oh Vegeta,” he lisped, “how did you think you would keep such ingenuity from me?”
Smiling, the tyrant retired to his quarters, where he was heralded by the screams of his new plaything.
'What the hell happened?' Yamcha internally postulated. He stared at the well-decorated walls of his guest room. The wall was blood red with ornate gold leaves stitched through it. Normally Yamcha would have appreciated the intricate wood carved, queen sized bed, but his mind was shot. Bulma had forsaken him after 10 years of love and devotion—well not really 10 years, it was up and down. But still, she was his. It was almost as if it were written in stone since the day they met in the sweltering desert. He was so shy back then, but Bulma was determined to have him. She doggedly pursued him and pressed him to be a better man than he was. No amount of gallivanting around in sand was going to help him in that respect.
The former bandit was bummed out and was about to re-pack when his door was opened.
“On my planet, we knock,” he said testily, crouching in a near fight stance.
“Oh, spare me human. I have come to help you win back your lady.”
Standing in front of the now closed door was a beautiful creature.
“Lady Grace, right?” asked Yamcha as he straightened.
“Not just Lady Grace, but future Queen of this planet, um....uh....”
“Yamcha,” he helped
“Yes.... Yamcha.” Grace placed a finger on her chin and committed the name to memory. He could help rid her of the bedraggled foreign woman, then the Prince would be hers for the taking. Her luscious lips curved at the thought of manipulating this male into doing her bidding.
“So, what is it that you want, Lady?”
“As I said, I am here to help you. You are no doubt aware that my betrothed is taken with your...woman?”
Yamcha's mouth gaped. “WHAT? If that animal thinks he is going to take what is mine he has another thing coming!” he yelled.
“Believe me...eh Yamcha, we have the same goal. Having a foreign Queen would dilute the royal bloodline, creating a stain upon our heritage. Not to mention the great potential such a situation would have to tear our world apart.” Grace sounded so noble and brave. She should have been rewarded for such an acting performance. All she wanted was the title, power, and to make that bitch pay for thinking she could take what was lawfully hers. Other than that, she really could care less about the rest of it.
Strolling across the thick nap of the carpet, Yamcha extended his hand. “Whatever I have to do to get my Bulma off this war world, I will do it...even if I have to make a deal with Satan himself.” Grace tamped down her disgust at touching the human. She took his hand and shook it. Departing, she flashed a smile. “Your woman meditates daily in the training room. When she is not there she is at work in the labs. Get to work on reminding her of your relationship. I will take care of the Prince.”
Yamcha cocked a smile and nodded. Hope raised its head in his heart. He could win her back, he'd done it before. This time he would put his best efforts into making her the center of his world. She would come to love him even more than she had in the past. She would be his and they would love each other---forever and beyond.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“OUCH, Fucking hell!” Bulma swore as she burnt her hand again while soldering a chip. Her confused mind was making it more difficult to work. She had to stop herself a billion times from contacting her father and giving him the tongue lashing of a lifetime for helping him get here in the first place. But that wouldn't help the situation. She huffed, blew out an angry breath, and bandaged her battered hand.
'Yamcha—what the hell was he doing on this planet?' she obsessed. 'Weren't they over? Why would he come for her.? What the hell would she do with Vegeta. Oh gods, Vegeta...how he must hate her now.'
She had successfully avoided the Prince by keeping her Ki low, working odd hours, and secreting herself in places he would not expect. She thought he even tried to probe her mind but the connection was weak and it was easy to block.
Her technicians gave her wide berth ever since the day Yamcha came to the planet. She wasn't blatantly abusing them but her answers were short and she was quick to anger if challenged. Common wisdom taught them to work quickly and quietly to be sure not to incur Bulma's wrath.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The scientists kept working around the clock, mass producing the training modules approved by the ruling monarch. King and Prince viewed the latest training results and were impressed. Not only were their warriors more powerful, but they were also learning at a phenomenal pace. Incorporating new techniques along with increased strength and stamina would allow the Saiyan race to challenge Ice-jins, bend them to their will, and obliterate their frosty asses from the galaxy.
“Our faith in the human woman has been well placed, it seems,” said the King.
The Prince closed his eyes and swallowed his anger in the face of this statement. “Apparently,” he answered flatly. “Have we any new information on Ice-jin movement since they began pillaging our allies?”
The King shook his head and wrinkled his brow. “Frieza has been too quiet. It is possible he is relying on surprise to aid any possible attack. Until then, we must move to increase our knowledge of his movements.”
Prince Vegeta nodded solemnly. His father was well versed in strategies and espionage. They needed to increase their current leverage now more than ever in order to battle the scaly, powerful, emperor.
Vegeta turned and caressed the door of his personal training unit. Yes, these inventions were a boon to his race but that paled in comparison to his current situation. The Woman, his Woman, had hidden herself from him. When the vile human male had shown himself, he could feel the fear and confusion in the Woman's heart. Vegeta gritted his teeth as the thought crossed his mind. He was so very proud of her when she turned from the scar faced one and never even looked back. But there was a price to pay for her stoic performance. The Prince was also now suffering the void left in his life by her disappearance.
He was so frustrated. The cunning girl was always one step ahead of him, avoiding his presence yet still proving useful to the empire. Meanwhile, he was subjected to the boring conversation of Grace, ever angling to increase her chances of bedding him. Always touching, groping, and grasping at any public event where her presence with him was required. 'Fat chance, whore' he thought. She would never have him. Not after he tasted the sweet nectar of Bulma, the woman that awoke his sleeping heart and challenged him at every turn.
The Prince wanted to tear the palace apart to find her. He wanted to drag her back to his bed and take her over and over until she passed out or begged for mercy. However, he knew following that course of action would not pay dividends. He would have to continue dedicating himself to training, along with patience earned through meditation. She would come to him, he knew she would.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Raising up from her desk, Bulma stretched up and cracked her back. Damn she was tired of keeping these off hours, but she was unable to clearly deal with the two males plaguing her thoughts at the moment. Sleep was taken in small doses and only when necessary. Until she could clear her confusion, she had to put her mind to work elsewhere.
So to keep busy, she redesigned the ships of war for the Sayian fleet. Bulma almost chuckled when she saw what they had been using for space travel. Immediately she saw endless possibilities and couldn't stop thinking of ways to improve their design. With her help, the ships were now more sleek with cloaking capabilities. Encapsulation was a given of course, but also included was a full training module that was constantly in sync with the pillar databases so that every Sayian could still train at their set pace no matter where they were stationed.
Twisting her wrist, Bulma read her watch. '2:39am, already--hmm I guess time flies while practicing avoidance,' she thought.
Bulma decided that a change of venue was in order. She stripped her lab coat and doused the lights. Keeping her Ki as low as possible, she made it to the training module. Sniffing the air, she was reminded of her prince. He had been here training heavily, sweating tiny rivulets down his perfectly chiseled pecs. Bulma nearly lost her head at the thought of the Prince performing his morning katas; muscles rippling and taut, his breathing syncing his heart rate, eyes focused and ready. She almost moaned as her body began to react to her imagination. She needed to occupy herself or she would end up following on her impulse instead of being guided by rational thought.
Mentally kicking herself, she replaced her clothes with workout gear.
“Computer,” she called. “Sugar Ray Robinson simulation. Mode: instruct. Speed: thrice normal. Music: Remember the Name by Fort Minor.”
After heeding her instructions, the former great middleweight boxing champion appeared beside her. Just as she had asked, the wordless lesson commenced at three times the normal rate. In no time she was slipping sneaky jabs and repeating fiery barrages that would always drive the former champion's opponents insane. The driving rhythm of the music was perfect for helping her keep up with Robinson while also driving thoughts from her head.
Chorus:
This is ten percent luck, twenty percent skill
Fifteen percent concentrated power of will
Five percent pleasure, fifty percent pain
And a hundred percent reason to remember the name
Yamcha looked on through the window of the training room. He knew her habits. She had done this hide-and-go-seek bit before when he had screwed up. He just had no idea that he would find her here in the training room. Last time she disappeared he found her in a meadow, lying flat on her back, searching the stars for guidance. He'd approached her and although she was skittish at first, they talked all night until she had forgiven him. At the time he thought he was wasting his breath but in retrospect, it was a small price to pay just to have her near him.
It was almost as if he was dreaming. Bulma was training! His Bulma was in front of him training quite well with a boxer from their planet. And at an incredible speed no less. She looked as if she were born to train and nothing else. Her muscle tone was exceptional to say the least. Last time he had seen her, she had been dressed to the 9s and looking fantastic but seeing her in this fashion gave him an entirely new appreciation for her body.
Her technique was effective and efficient. Her ample breasts were rising and falling before his eyes, she not at all winded, very controlled in fact, like a true warrior.
Opening the door, Yamcha was assaulted by the loud base that drove the music Bulma had chosen. He covered his ears and began to approach her. Bulma stopped and called a halt to the program. She could feel someone behind her. Quicker than a hiccup, Yamcha found himself being pulled and flipped over onto the floor mat.
“Yamcha, what are you doing here, trying to scare me to death?”
Yamcha rubbed his sore bottom and stood. “Sorry Babe, you know I didn't mean it.” He stepped forward and Bulma stepped back. It was clear she wanted to keep her distance.
In a small voice Bulma asked “Why are you here?” She dropped her head and turned away. “You said the most horrible things to me that night. Shattered my soul along with belief in myself. Why would you come here after such a successful campaign to be rid of me?” She didn't want to be swayed by his charm. She wanted the truth...if he was capable.
“I have played that night over and over in my mind, Bulma. It was supposed to be perfect. I wanted that for us.” Yamcha ran a hand over his haggard face. “I wanted to marry you, I still do...”
“Really, you have another fake ring to pawn off on me?” Bulma spat, still not turning around.
“I have no excuse for the ring,” Yamcha admitted. “I was proposing to the richest most brilliant woman on the planet, yet I couldn't afford the perfect ring for her”
Bulma then turned and looked at him incredulously. “Do you think I would have given a damn if you gave me the smallest diamond in the world? Am I that shallow to you? Did you think so little of me?” Bulma's eyes were stinging with unshed tears. “It was the sentiment behind the action, Yamcha. I can buy what I please but your love, that was what was supposed to be genuine. Your speech after being caught offering the ring was really enough to say it all.” She rubbed her face, swiping at the few tears that began to flow. “You didn't respect me, Yamcha. You made me feel like I was cheap and dirty. You broke my heart—but you know all this. Why have you come?” Bulma demanded
Yamcha boldly stepped forward and reached out to touch Bulma's cheek. “I do love you and respect you, Babe.” Bulma scoffed. “It's true! Ever since that night I have been trying to work out how I can prove to you that I am the man for you, always and for ever.” He tipped her chin up and looked her directly in the eyes. “For all of the hurt and the pain, I am sorry. For every night you have suffered ever, I am sorry. It is with all sincerity that I vow to earn your trust and your love.” One lone tear fell from his deep dark eyes, splashing down on his front.
Bulma was moved by his admission. She knew that she should leave but she didn't want to go. The part of her that was still his, rooted her body to the spot. She wanted to hear more of his promises and declarations of love and forever.
Slowly lowering his face to hers, Yamcha continued. “I've missed you so much. My life—hell my soul has been empty without you to fill it. I need you to be with me always. And no matter how long it takes, I will do whatever I must for you to become my wife.” His lips were close to hers now. He whispered “I want to be your one and only lover. For the rest of our lives, let us belong only to each other.”
Just as his lips touched hers, Bulma jumped back as if burned by fire. She looked him in the eye shook her head.
“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to move so fast, Babe.”
“It's not that, Yamcha”
“Then what...?” Yamcha stopped and nearly choked on the air he was breathing.
Bulma wanted to look away but something inside her told her not to be ashamed. “I am in love, Yamcha. We were together the night before you arrived.”
Now it was time for his heart to break. His pure and perfect love had been taken by another.
“But how? Who? Weren't we meant to be together?” Yamcha was grasping for anything that would help him make sense of this new information.
“He is Prince Vegeta. He has asked for my hand and I have accepted. We still have to make it formal with the people of his planet.”
Tears ran unchecked down Yamcha's anguished face. “Why not me? You could have given yourself to me!”
Bulma nearly rolled her eyes “Oh Yamcha! With all the make ups and break ups along with the rampant cheating you did when you thought I wasn't looking, how could I have given myself to you? It never felt like you loved me the person, you just wanted to possess me.”
Dropping to his knees, he hugged Bulma around the middle. “Please, Babe, I can be better,” he whispered hoarsely.
Bulma reached around and disengaged his arms from her body. “Oh, why did you have to learn to truly love me so late? I'm so sorry, so very sorry.” Bulma turned and left the chamber. It was then that Yamcha let out an anguished howl while tears flooded his face.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Frieza looked down at the model before him. The technology was well beyond anything his small-brained scientists had presented. He was not sure how this module would take the monkeys from pathetic to powerful, but it wouldn't hurt for his master technicians to have a look. “Oh Vegeta,” he lisped, “how did you think you would keep such ingenuity from me?”
Smiling, the tyrant retired to his quarters, where he was heralded by the screams of his new plaything.