Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Decoding the Saiyan ❯ Flirt ( Chapter 3 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragonball Z.

A/N: The prompt for this was 'flirt'.

Flirt

Bulma leaned back in her chair, watching her image in the mirror as the makeup artist added the finishing touches to her lips. The blonde woman stepped back, grinning from ear to ear.

"You look stunning, Bulma," she told the heiress. "Every man is going to want to take you home tonight."

Bulma laughed lightly, lifting a hand to touch one of the ringlets that curled about her clavicle. In the past month she'd done away with her perm, sick of the way it acted in the wind, and had replaced the style with soft curls instead. Tonight her hair stylist had pinned only a portion of her hair back, creating a cascade of blue curls that ran from the crown of her head to her shoulder blades. Combined with her newly-applied smoky eyes, shimmering blue dress and killer heels that she'd selected, she would be hands down the most attractive woman at the annual Capsule Corp Gala Ball.

Her movements faltered only slightly as she stepped into the dress, remembering the fact that she was dateless.

Oh, every man in the room did act as if they wanted to take her home. Bulma rolled her eyes as she made another escape from a businessman twice her age, who had spent the entire time conversing with her breasts before attempting to grope her ass.

Sighing, she set down her empty champagne flute on a nearby table, before popping another piece of leftover finger food in her mouth. As she ate, feeling a headache coming on from the blaring music, she looked around and realised that it was no longer necessary to stay. She'd given her speech at the beginning of the ball, eaten her dinner, taken part in all of the obligatory dances with businessmen and politicians, and conversed with all of their wives.

Quite frankly, she'd had enough.

Slipping out through the kitchens attached to Capsule Corp's ballroom, she found herself in the cool night air, and sighed in relief. She slipped her heels off one at a time, clutching them both by her right hand as she used her left to trace a path along the building's side, guiding herself anti-clockwise around the massive yellow dome that housed her business, scientific research, and home.

It was a dark night; the kind that made her think about ghouls and ghosts. The moon was only a tiny sliver that hid behind clouds and did nothing to illuminate the world below. She was suddenly thankful for the fact that she knew the Capsule Corp grounds like the back of her hand. A little darkness couldn't stop her.

A figure materialised in front of her, causing her to jump back in shock as she bumped into the person. The man straightened, and she realised that he must have been standing there all along, slumped against the side of the building.

"Sorry," she apologised, backing away from the tall, shadowy figure, the smell of alcohol strong in the air.

"Don't be," the man slurred, suddenly lurching towards her. His arms trapped her against the building, his entire body caging her in. She gasped and pressed herself flat against the wall, bare heels digging into the grass.

"Leave me alone," she said, dropping her shoes and weakly pushing against him. There was no fight in her, her strength having drained away with the shock and fear of it all.

"You were flirting with me, earlier," the man replied, his mouth coming dangerously close to her ear. "You shouldn't tease on the dance floor if you aren't willing to put out."

"You're drunk," she hissed, her heartbeat pounding in her ears. She tried once more to push him away, but he merely closed the distance between their bodies, crushing her against the wall with enough force to expel the air in her lungs.

"Leave her."

The words, spoken sharply by a deep, husky voice, rang out in the crisp night air. Bulma uttered a small gasp in reply; never had she been more pleased to hear Vegeta's arrogant tone.

The stranger pulled back enough that she could breathe. "Fuck off," he hissed into the darkness. "Go find your own chick."

Bulma squealed as a hand seemed to appear from out of nowhere, wrenching the man back by the shoulder. She couldn't see more than blurred, black shapes, but she caught the sound of a dull thud, and then another as the larger of the two figures slumped to the ground.

"Be thankful that I didn't kill you," Vegeta said, and a shiver ran up her spine. The man on the ground- she still didn't know who he was- wheezed in reply, unaware that the statement was more than just cheap talk.

A strong hand clamped around her arm, and she jerked in surprise. She caught the distinct smell of sweat and musk that marked Vegeta, and let out a shaky breath, looking up at the distinct shape of the Saiyan's gravity-defying hair.

"Thank you," she whispered, allowing Vegeta to lead her through the darkness to the private entrance of the Briefs' living quarters. His hand released her as they stepped through the doorway, the lights inside switching on automatically.

"Really, thank you Vegeta," she said as he headed for the stairwell. "That was kind of you, to step in like that."

He paused, the muscles on his back rippling in response to her words.

"Make no mistake, woman," he spoke quietly, back to her, his voice laced with warning. "I am not a kind person."

"Then why'd you do it?"

Why was it that she was brave around him, a mass murderer, but not around some weak Human?

Vegeta turned his head, eyes shifting to bore into her.

"I am a Saiyan," he replied, as if this was supposed to answer everything.

"Did you hear?" one of the younger board members turned to her, just as the meeting was to begin. "One of the newbies from Shizuka Corp. turned up to yesterday's meeting with a black eye. Apparently something happened at the Gala Ball, but no one seems to have seen anything."

"That's odd," she replied quietly, turning to her notes. It was not business that filled her mind, though, but the voice of the Saiyan Prince ringing clear through the night air.