Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Decoding the Saiyan ❯ Alone ( Chapter 4 )

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

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragonball Z.

A/N: I have had reoccurring dreams before, though never as many as Bulma has in this drabble. However, I do believe that this can occur; my friend, for example, recently became a vegetarian, and for the last month has been plagued with dreams about eating meat!

I also deleted the paragraph where I expressly used the word 'alone' *rolls eyes*. However, it was what prompted this, and the characters are still alone in this drabble… *shrugs* One of the requirements was to keep this bang on 300 words, and I'm pretty pleased that I managed to get this to be exactly 300 words; I'm not normally good at that kind of stuff.

This time I didn't use the Intimacy Challenge as a prompt, but a drabble prompt from the Blue & Black livejournal community.

Alone

There was no pretending that Bulma was completely unaffected by the incident with the man from Shizuka Corp. Although she was utterly grateful for the fact that Vegeta had saved her, his unexplained reasons for doing so meant that she spent much of her free time replaying the episode, pondering again and again what "I am a Saiyan" was supposed to mean.

The incident- as she had come to think of it- had even snaked its way into her dreams, albeit in rather mutated forms. Some nights it would be Vegeta who she stumbled upon in the dark, Vegeta who pushed her up against the wall. He would lean down, whispering "I am a Saiyan" darkly in her ear, his hot breath feathering over her neck while his hard erection pressed against her hip.

Other nights she would be attacked by some faceless man, and Vegeta would come to her rescue, only to force her to watch the man be beaten to death. "I am a Saiyan," he would say to her, his face splattered in blood. "This is what I am."

She awoke with a start after one particularly graphic dream, to find her hand entangled in her panties, mimicking the movements of Dream Vegeta's fingers. She lay there, drenched in sweat, waiting for her heartbeat to stop pounding in her ears.

Wondering if the dreams would ever stop.

Stepping out onto her bedroom balcony, she let out a sigh. It was a hot night, and the breeze against her flushed skin felt good, chilling her damp negligee.

The full moon lit the yard below, and her eyes focused on a lone figure standing shirtless and barefoot in the grass, his black eyes staring up at her with a dark intensity.

She shivered.

Yes, it was a hot night.