Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Coming of Age ❯ Chapter 9

Argh! Sorry for being so slack… Thanks again for your lovely reviews - hope to hear from more of you soon!

 

Warning: More mature content - language and sexual references… general citrus to be honest.

 

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball.

 

 

She couldn't breathe. The world was spinning, round and round; yet he was stood still. Panic had taken over - how much had he heard, why is he here, does he want me again?

 

Pan gripped the towel tighter to her chest and did the only thing she could - she turned around and slammed the window shut behind her, leaving the Saiya-no-Ouji outside. What you can't see can't hurt you… Ignorance is bliss.

 

She tried to moderate her breathing, she was hot, and it felt as though she was burning up and that cooling reassurance of a deep, calming breathe was a million miles away. The ache she had felt previous to his arrival was still present in her abdomen but it was getting worse. She slid to the floor beneath her window in frustration, trying to quell all the abnormal urges she was experiencing.

 

She tried to concentrate on his ki, but her head was foggy with all manner of unanswered questions. She rose to her feet, just as the window shattered and Vegeta flew through the jagged glass, flinging Pan on to her bed, himself following above her.

 

“What gives you the right to disrespect your Prince, onna?”

 

Pan opened her mouth, but no words would come out - the air was stuck in her throat, her chest heaving, her eyes telling Vegeta just how scared she was of him at that present time.

 

Vegeta removed himself from Pan's bed; dispelling the compromising position they were in. “Get up.” He stood against the broken window frame with his arms folded, waiting for the confused girl to get up. She pulled herself up and sat cross-legged on the bed, trying to find her voice. Eventually…

 

“Why are you here?”

 

The trademark smirk flashed across Vegeta's face. “To spar, onna.” He knew exactly what she had been thinking of - it was written all over her face; her beautifully flushed face. He shook his head slightly to rid himself of any proceedings thoughts of that nature and snapped, “Get your mind out of the gutter!”

 

Pan gasped at his harsh, brash tone. Her eyes narrowed and she got up from the bed and walked over to Vegeta, intent on revenge for his degrading comment towards her. He shot her a stern look, yet she did not falter. She raised her hand, ready to slap him square in the chops, but he grabbed it at lightning speed, applying that oh-so subtle pressure, just enough to make Pan yelp in surprise.

 

“Don't even think about it. Look at yourself; you're acting like a bloody disgrace.” His eyes lazily trailed downwards, taking in her inappropriate attire. “If I wasn't mistaken, it would look as though you're asking for something…” He trailed off, never releasing his grip on his hand. His eyes narrowed and he pulled the girl roughly to his chest.

 

Pan eyes widened as she found herself in the place she so desperately wanted to be. She ignored the fact that he still had her right hand in that unmistakeable iron grip she was learning to adore so much and raised her left hand to hook round the back off his neck when he leant forward and whispered into her ear, his breath tickling her neck as he did so.

 

“Onna, you must dress and we must talk. Do not tease me, my patience is wearing thin.” He used his free hand to trace along the hem of her towel, his finger brushing lightly against the top of her breasts. “And Onna, you know how little patience I do possess.” He pushed her away and started out of the broken remains of her window.

 

“Meet me in the Gravity Chamber in twenty minutes.” He flew off without a second look at her.

 

When the Saiya-no-Ouji was out of sight, Pan screamed loudly until her throat felt raw. That familiar ache had returned tenfold. She had never even realised its absence when she was close to the dangerous Prince. She gulped. Surely that couldn't be a good thing….

 

 

Vegeta paced the length of the chamber for the umpteenth time since he had returned. How the hell was he meant to explain Saiya-jin attraction to the girl? How he inadvertently woke all sorts of sensations, emotions and feelings in both himself and Trunks - and that it's not actually to do with her as a person, just her genetics.

 

He flared his ki angrily, up to the cusp of transformation. They would spar first - release some the tension pulsing through his head.

 

His mind flitted back to his eldest child. Trunks was feeling the effects of obsession. Hideous obsession; he had been lusting after the girl for so long, that was no secret, and now he had all but blown any chance of having her. That also might be something to do with himself as well, however.

 

He growled angrily. The now familiar ebb of guilt in his chest was present again. He was a horrible father, pursuing the object of his son's affections - and getting what his child desired - without a second thought.

 

One night, one stupid, disastrous, unspeakable night; that's all it was.

 

But if that's all it was, why did he still ache for the young warrior. It was on the verge of painful at points. There were times when he could quite easily just find her and take her there and then on the spot.

 

His head spun. Never before had he cursed his Saiya-jin heritage… but right now, he could really do without it.

 

 

Bulma looked through the window to her `husband' of the past thirty-two years.

 

Never before had she seen him so out of tune with his thoughts. She thought to go in and try to comfort him, but then she saw his aura crackle and spark around him and she thought better of it.

 

Even through all the decades they had spent side by side, she still couldn't understand the Saiya-jin Prince really any better than she could the first time she invited him to stay at her home when they all returned from Namek-sei. Blowing a stray hair out of her face she sighed in exasperation.

 

It was as though she didn't exist anymore to the arrogant Prince. In previous times if she were to stand and watch him train or otherwise through that very window he would be alert to her presence before she even realised herself. Where did that connection go?

 

The unidentifiable feeling from a few nights ago had once again settled itself in her stomach and she felt as though she could cry. She hated that feeling - the feeling of uncertainty, fear even. She was getting old, almost too old for her liking and she just wanted someone to settle down with her and care for her, like she would care for them. Hell, who was she kidding, it wasn't someone, it was Vegeta she wanted. For him to stop training so intensely, to slow down a bit and actually take his place as her partner for the next few years.

 

That wasn't so selfish, was it?

 

 

He had to hold himself with dignity. Poise and stature were important in shaping other people's perception of you.

 

He was royalty.

 

He felt the ki of the girl approaching and with a bit more concentration he realised that the Woman had been watching him through the same window she had been watching him through for the past thirty-odd years. He turned and his gaze caught hers. She looked lost… upset even. He knew that he hadn't been paying much (if any) attention to her recently. It wasn't his fault. He didn't know how to conduct himself. She was getting old, so old and it scared him to an extent. The girl however, she wasn't old, she could keep up with his gruelling training regime, and there would be plenty of time…

 

He shook his head free of those disgusting thoughts. He had to apply logic to everything - to override the genealogy that was plaguing him so. He turned and watched the Woman turn to embrace his one-night lover.

 

Pan looked visibly uncomfortable as Bulma planted two soft kisses on her cheeks, smiling and chatting happily to her.

 

 

I've slept with your husband… I've slept with your husband - the father of your children - the man you want to live out your days with… I've slept with your husband…

 

The thoughts ran wild in Pan's mind, causing her to breath heavier than usual. She felt hot and sick. She excused herself politely from Bulma's small talk and made her way into the training facility to find Vegeta smirking at her - his usual façade safely secured in place.

 

“How can you be so fucking nonchalant about this? You're sick, you know that?”

 

“Learn some respect and manners, girl. There's nothing to be nonchalant about remember… `One night', if I do so recall.”

 

“I'm not heartless like you!”

 

“I don't recollect you trying to stop me….” He trailed off, letting the truthful words sink in.

 

Pan winced. He was right. So right. She loved every second they spent together that night - that was true. If it wasn't, why would she want to jump him this very second?

 

 

 

“Learn some respect and manners, girl. There's nothing to be nonchalant about remember… `One night', if I do so recall.”

 

His chest twisted into a knot again. Those stupid, stupid words… One night.

 

“I'm not heartless like you!”

 

That pain again. That dull, throbbing ache in the pit of his stomach, coupled with the chest pains, it was getting unbearable.

 

It wasn't a question of wanting her - he needed her. Every last bit of her.

 

 

Another battle for dominance ensued. Two hungry Saiya-jins pounced upon each other, deep, intense kisses, fierce caresses.

 

Neither had fully realised how much they needed each other until they actually had each other again. Their auras sparked around them, signifying the dizzying heights of pleasure and fulfilment that was so needed by both. A tangled mass of limbs fell to the floor, clothing being discarded as if it was nothing. Pan moaned in both bliss and relief as Vegeta's hands found her breasts and his lips found her neck. Never before had she felt so, so… so complete.

 

She pushed his head downwards, forcing more attention upon his chest, her fingers tangling in his wild hair. He growled, pushing himself upwards and grabbing her by the arms, pulling her in towards his chest and capturing her lips in yet another violent, but welcome, assault.

 

She removed his spandex top with little effort in order to have him in the same state of undress as he had her. Her hand trailed slowly over his chest, memorising every scar, every blemish. He was by no means perfect, but to her touch, pretty damn close. She felt herself get pushed up gently against the wall of the chamber and the pressure of his kiss intensify.

 

They were completely lost in the moment, their instinct taking prevalence over logic.

 

“Vegeta-sama!” Pan gasped, holding on to him for all she was worth. “You can't say this is it… you can't….” Her words tickling his neck as two became one.

 

He closed his eyes and held the girl close to him. He had never held anyone as he was holding her at this moment and the fact that the very situation he was in right now was implausible to anyone else.

 

“Vegeta no Ouji!” Pan screamed for all she was worth, her fingers raking through the Saiya-jin Prince's hair, her deep breaths skimming past his ear - the contact was getting too much.

 

He met her height of ecstasy and leant into her once more, kissing her swollen lips softly, letting his barriers down for once, his own voice betraying whatever little logic was left within him.

 

“How could I let you go now?”

 

 

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