Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Don't Go ❯ Don't Go ( One-Shot )

The Beginning of Vegeta`s and Bulma`s life:

//Two young lovers with their bodies on fire. They can swim that river of desire.//

Vegeta frowned. He couldn't find her anywhere. Not that he minded.... but his hands were another story. They were itching...and not from wanting to fire a chi blast. How she had managed to invade his thoughts when he was training, he would never figure out. Only that the harder, and more intensely he trained, her face kept appearing before him. Sometimes, her entire form appeared before him, and he had to focus to keep up his pace...and his pace was being constantly interrupted by Bulma-even when she wasn't bothering him while training.

*She did this. How could she invade my thought? Make my training secondary to her? Does it even matter? *

Vegeta chuckled as realized that it really didn't matter to him. Oh, it would have, at one time, make no mistake about that. But that time was long past. He'd been on this planet for years now, and still found things...somewhat interesting. He had never taken time to look for interesting things on other planets before....but, maybe that was because there was no one to make him look for interesting things. Then again, Frezia wasn't one to let his troops look for interesting things unless they planned on destroying them later, either. Growling at the thought of Frezia, he shook his head, and sighed. He was dead; there was no reason to dwell in the past.

*How DARE she go missing?! Well, no matter. I'll find her. She can't hide from me.*

Soon, he sensed her chi....she was heading in a southern direction. Frowning, and wondering what she was up to, he followed.

Bulma smiled. She wondered how Vegeta managed to weave this spell on her. She couldn't wait to see him, and she was literally jittery with excitement. She knew that sooner or later, he'd come looking for her. He always did-even if he said he wouldn't. And he always had an excuse. She shook her head, and let out a small laugh. Vegeta would always be Vegeta. And he would look for her.

Especially since she hadn't seen him in almost three weeks....well, except in passing. But today was different. She had the day off work, and she make sure Vegeta knew that. And tomorrow as well.

Yet, she hadn't been home all day. Looking at her watch, Bulma grinned. She couldn't wait to see Vegeta. She ran out to her car, and quickly headed south. Hopefully, she could be where she wanted to before Vegeta caught up with her.

Vegeta frowned. *What is that woman up to? She doesn't 'work' today, nor the next day. So, therefore, she should have been home. She didn't have any other plans today that I'm aware of. Yet, she isn't at home.*

He growled, and his hands moved in a reflexive motion. He hadn't seen her in three weeks-except when she was leaving to go somewhere, and since he knew she had today off, he was expecting her to stay home. That way, if he needed her, she was available. Yet, she took off early this morning telling him to look for her when he needed something. And left before he could say a word.

*Blast her. I have better things to do than chase her around the entire country.*

Bulma stopped the car. Getting out, she capsule'ed it, and stepped over to her small little corner of the world. Smiling, she shook her head, and breathed in the fresh, clean, crisp air. Perfect. Everything looked perfect. Absolutely isolated; no one, not even Piccalo was aware this place existed. A solitary willow tree stood over looking a cliff, frail-looking, but surprisingly sturdy, with solid ground beneath it. A treasure to find, especially since this area was known for the instability of its cliffs.

Leaves blew in the light breeze, causing the willow tree's vines to gently turn, with dandelion seeds blowing away, the small hideaway shone as if someone spread millions of diamonds about. Stepping into the thick cover of leaves, Bulma made a mental note to thank ChiChi; she had obviously gone to a lot of trouble to make it perfect, even if she didn't like Vegeta.

The table was covered with a light silk table cloth, the candle holders, intricately and purposely designed for this date, were holding two tall, elegant, unlit candles. A motorized cart filled with Vegeta's favorite foods and hers was nearby, and the shade of the willow tree almost hid it completely. Unless someone knew what they were looking for, they might not ever be found. A smallish capsule house was even a short walk away, filled with everything and anything she could think of that fit Vegeta and herself.

Looking through everything just to make sure ChiChi didn't leave anything out-although she doubted it-Bulma couldn't help but think of Vegeta's reaction. A part of her wasn't sure it would be what she wanted, but another part of her was. Vegeta-as good as he was at hiding his emotions-he still had them. Of that, Bulma was certain. What she wasn't so certain about would be how she would say what she needed to; the words were closer and closer to tumbling out everyday, and the worry that she'd make a fool of herself increased. But, she had to know.

Sometimes, she would catch a glimpse of some emotion in his eyes...she knew what it was, and wondered if he knew too. Weather he was arguing with her, making love to her, or just looking at her-Bulma saw it. Often times, she would look at him when she didn't think he was looking, just to try and catch a glimpse of the emotion. And thinking about his eyes, always made Bulma think about how good it felt to be in his arms. Safe. Secure. Protected. Cherished. And a million other emotions all at once, making her feel incredible, and she was determined to make him feel the same.

This was the only way she knew how. After all, he'd been on Earth for years now; surely, he would understand the significance of this.

*All I have to do is get him under the tree.. That will do it. I'm sure it will. Then, he`ll know exactly how I feel. He won`t leave me again. *

Vegeta landed, frowning with puzzlement. *Why would Bulma come here? These cliffs are extraordinarily unstable. Is she out of her mind?* Still, Bulma wouldn't come here unless she had a good reason, so Vegeta began to pay closer attention to his surroundings.

But, there was only a single, willow tree. Everything else was surrounded by open space, open air, and endless water. Vegeta looked about carefully, then, walked to the willow tree. Bulma was in there; not only could he sense her chi, but it was the only place available to not be seen at. Stepping through the hanging leaves, Vegeta's eyes took in the table, and the food. Stepping to Bulma, his arm encircled her waist, and he raised one eyebrow in a questioning way.

Bulma smiled as she saw Vegeta approach her. "You came."

//Leaving innocence there on the bank by their clothes, A man holing on to a woman letting go.//

Vegeta nodded. "Of course, I came. You told me to get you when I had need of you." He looked at her, and smirked, as realization dawned on him.

"You. Planned. This." With each word, he slowly caressed up Bulma's arms, until they were on her shoulders, and nudged her face with his nose. He pulled her closer to him.

Bulma smiled. She raised her eyes to meet his, and slid her hands over his shoulders as well.

"Yep." She said, softly, as she leaned her head closer to his. She almost gasped as he put his hand on her cheek, and slowly, played with her hair.

"Good girl." Vegeta whispered. Slowly, he ran his fingers though her hair-mesmerized, as he always was by its softness and color. He would have been content, but Bulma had other ideas.

"I know." She brought her hand behind Vegeta's head, and kissed him, slowly, tantalizingly on the lips. She felt Vegeta respond, so she slowly moved his hands downward, as she moved her hands up his torso. "I want you to have this Vegeta."

Slowly, she brought her hands in front of her, and fiddled with something inside her purse. Bulma brought out a tiny, little black box.

"I'm afraid you`re going to have to explain a little better than that." His voice was gentle whisper, as if he were afraid to use his full vocal range.

Bulma flashed Vegeta a wan smile, and slowly, slowly, sank to her knees. Opening the box, Bulma showed Vegeta a thick, golden ring. "Will you marry me?"

//There is a man with a bottle on the other side of town. Swimming with memories that he can't drown, though it ain't sunk in yet that she ain't coming home.//

Yamcha sighed. He took another drink of beer. He still couldn't believe it.

"She chose him." His voice was harsh from the beer, and he closed his eyes, only to see Bulma's ethereal image before him ; her cynical smile; the way she'd wrap her finger about her hair when she was working on an invention,; the way she'd look in bed, wrapped up in all of his covers. Even knowing that he and Bulma hadn't been dating for the past two years, it still hurt.

*Vegeta.*

The thought was filled with disgust. The man that came to kill them all, ironically was what made Bulma happy. The man that caused his death.

Yet, he knew that....on some level, he always knew that Bulma and the Sayjin Prince would have some kind of relationship. He wasn't as blind as people assumed. He'd seen the way that Vegeta acted around Bulma-and the looks he'd give her. The looks that she'd given him; it was only a matter of time. So, he broke up with her. Doing everything he could to make her hate him, so that when it came down to it, she wouldn't feel guilty about any choice she made. Yamcha knew she would understand one day.

It didn't help him, though. He squeezed the bottle he was holding; it shattered, and the glass fell to the floor of his apartment. Looking dully at pile broken bottles, Yamcha walked across the floor to get a second beer from the fridge. *Why Vegeta? Can he really make her happy? Will he be a horrible father?*

He took a swig of beer with that thought, and almost spit it out on the floor. "No." He whispered desperately. * He can't have changed so much in a couple of years...what if he hurts her? Kami... what have I done?*

"You'd....oh, Bulma." Yamcha's voice held a inconsolable note in it. He and Bulma had been there for each other for years-they'd been each others firsts in almost everything. Yet, there was no escaping the fact that Bulma wanted children; one of the few opinions that they differed on. Unless Vegeta were sterile, he knew he would give Bulma the children she wanted.

"Please, Bulma, don't. I love you." Blinking back tears, Yamcha tried to not think of Bulma with Vegeta....but it wasn't working. And, try as he might, Yamcha couldn't conceive of time when Bulma had really been entirely happy with him. Close, yes. But happy? Closing his eyes, Yamcha tried to image Bulma as her happiest-and he remembered a time when Bulma came out of Vegeta's room, looking flushed. He had never asked what happened; he didn't want to know; but now that vision of her- diamond eyes sparkling, cheeks slightly pink, a dazed look on her face, her unbound hair tumbling over her shoulders, haunted him.

"I loved her! I still lover her!" Yamcha yelled this, to no one in particular, as his fist his the table, breaking it. "What have I done? I could have given her anything! I would have made her happy! Oh, Kami...what have I done?" Yamcha wailed, throwing the bottle of beer from his hand, and sinking to the floor, crying.

//Oh, a man holding on to a woman letting go. His heart is telling him to hang on for dear life, 'cause deep down he knows she's letting go for good this time.//

* I drove her away. Kami...I drove her away.* Yamcha didn't hide the tears that came down from his eyes.

"I loved her." He said, as tears came rolling freely from his eyes. "Don't go. I`m sorry I screewed up, but I don`t if you give me a second." He was alone, yet the words came tumbling out after them, one at a time, sometimes all at once, mostly slurred, but he didn't care.

"I can give child. Good one! mumblmemeubmeillbgoodfathermumblemubmlemumlean'won'tflwyoffmumbumbemumble. Or leave in desserts." Yamcha looked up at that.

"Desserts....I'm hungry. What's trwo eat?" With that, he slowly stood up, and took a jello shot to eat out of the fridge. Dizzily walking to the couch, he fell more than sat on it, and promptly passed out.

**************************************************************** ****************************************

The Middle of Vegeta`s and Bulma`s life:

//There's a daddy walking his daughter down the aisle. Fighting back tears and four-cent smiles. Oh, for twenty-two years, he watched her grow. A man holing on to a woman letting go.//

"Calm down, Vegeta. Stop fidgeting." Bulma's sharp voice cut through Vegeta's head, and made him frown, as he looked at Bulma.

Vegeta growled. His voice was thick with tension, and sounded angry. "Why do I have to do this? I never had to go through this with Trunks." Vegeta purposely fidgeted, enjoying the flash of annoyance in Bulma's eye's.

"It's Bra's wedding. And besides, it's an EARTH custom. The Father of the Bride walks his daughter down to the groom." Bulma put the slightest emphasis on the word Earth, as if to remind Vegeta of where he was. "Besides, I remember someone going through the exact, same thing." She patted his hand, trying to soothe him....after all, it was only natural for him to feel this way. Bulma smiled, and repressed a small chuckle.

Vegeta scrowled again. "I don't like it. She can't marry him. I'll kill him first." Vegeta shook his head, unwilling to admit that his little girl was growing up. He still remembered when she came crawling into his and Bulma's bed from nightmares. It was hard to picture that two-year old child as the woman she was today.

Bulma looked at Vegeta, and shook her head, hiding her smile. She knew that Vegeta would have trouble with this...still, he was taking it rather well.

"All fathers say that. He will be good for her. Besides, isn't he almost as strong as you?" Bulma said, trying to elicit some kind response from him.

Vegeta shook his head. His soon to be son-in-law wasn't as strong as him, but was strong enough....for a human. "Doesn't matter. I'll still kill him." He said, ignoring the look of mock fear that Bulma was giving him.

Bulma laughed out loud now, an easy laugh. Catching Vegeta's eye, he grunted, an soon, was joining her. Both knew that Vegeta wouldn't harm his new son-in-law.

"Still, to Yamcha's son...." Vegeta trailed off, thinking of the time when he and Yamcha had been rivals. He gave a small snort. *No. Never rivals. I always knew I'd win. So did he.* The thought held no malice, only facts.

"He's not so bad. After all, he did work hard earn YOUR approval." Bulma said, quietly, thinking of how different her life would have been had she not chosen Vegeta so many years ago. She shook her head, trying to picture saying this to Yamcha, and failing miserably at it.

Vegeta nodded. Then, he frowned, noticing how silent she was. "Does it bother you?" He asked, quietly, misinterpreting her silence.

"Does what bother me?" Bulma looked at him, slightly confused.

"That you and I-" Vegeta waved his hand to indicate everything around him. "never did this."

Bulma's eyes widened in surprise. *And after all these years...I didn't think he could still surprise me.*

"Well?" Vegeta had an impatient tone in his voice.

Bulma shook her head in amazement. "No. At first, a little, but no." Her eyes sparkled with love and amusement. "If I remember correctly, someone had a different idea of `marriage'."

Vegeta blushed. *The Sayjin mating ceremony.* He thought to himself.

Bulma caught sight of this, and couldn't suppress a grin. She knew what he was thinking. ~* Yep...although it would have been nice if you TOLD me that was what you were doing.*~

~*Considering I allowed us to elope-after we were joined, mind you-just for your sake, I didn't feel I should have.*~ Vegeta grinned, and winked at Bulma, his mental voice easy-going, and teasing.

~*You do know that it wouldn't have been legal, right?*~

*~I can't believe it. You still surprise me.*~ Vegeta ignored Bulma's last sentence-it was a running joke with them. He didn't tell her that was what had happened until many years later....and Vegeta still grimaced thinking about his punishment-he wasn't allowed in the house for almost three months.

*~And you me, Beloved.*~

**************************************************************** ***********************************

The End of Vegeta`s and Bulma`s life:

//In the hill valley home, there's a feeble old man; and he's holing on to a fragile old hand.

And the angles are coming to carry her home. OH, how he's a man holding on to a woman letting go.//

Vegeta sat by her bed. The doctors said there was nothing they could do. Sensu beans didn't even work. Dende said it was because "It is her time. Sensu beans

can't prevent a natural death." His voice was gentle, compassionate, but Vegeta didn't hear.

He refused to believe it. He firmly believed that if he stayed with her, she wouldn't leave. No one else did; everyone else had seen these last few months just how weak, and feeble she had become, and had thought only a miracle from Kami could save her. Unfortunately, Dende couldn't provide one, for all that he was guardian.

Trunks, Bra, their family-even their friends were outside. All he had to do was say the word, and one of them would come in. But he wouldn't. Couldn't. She was his life; his mate, his wife. He promised to stay by her side, in sickness, heath, wealth and poverty; he wasn't about to break his promise to her. Never to her.

"Bulma.." he said as she stirred awake. His voice became harsh, and to keep from chocking up, he coughed.

"Veg-<cough, cough> Vegeta." Bulma smiled, happy. "I didn't think you would still be here."

"Where else would I be, woman? You are my mate." He whispered to her, in a hoarse voice.

"Training." Her voice was dry; Vegeta held up a cup of water and slowly, let her sip from it.

"Silly, ditzy, girl. I can't train now; you need me." His voice was a whisper, floating slowly to Bulma's ears.

She nodded, her face becoming pale.

"No!" Vegeta knelt down beside the bed.

"Don't go." He pleaded. Then, he took her hand, and placed it on his cheek. "Please, don't go." The Prince of Sayjins let his wife feel his tear stained cheeks, and see them come from his eyes...the first time he ever cried in front of her. The ONLY time he had ever cried in front of her.

"You CAN'T go. I forbid it." His voice was harsh, and closer to begging than the command he tried to make it. Bulma wiped his tears, with a shaking hand, and tried to wipe her own. Vegeta beat her to it.

"Oh..Vegeta. I wish I could stay for you..." Her voice was just above a whisper...Vegeta saw a pain in Bulma's eyes that he wished he could take away.

"The dragon balls-" he began, trying to keep some sense of hope alive in him.

"Can not be used." her voice was firm. Seeing Vegeta's look of betrayal and hurt, she smiled sadly. "You know why." she whispered. ~*It is my time. I feel it. If the sensu beans didn't work on me because of that, the dragonballs can't prevent my death.*~

*Bulma...you can't leave...no...please...* "No. please, you can't leave." Vegeta's voice was breaking, and his tears were running down his cheeks, staining the sheets. This was the first time he had begged in a long time...the only other time that he lowered himself to beg, it was to ask a third-class Sayjin to defeat, and kill Frezia. Which didn't exactly happened as planned.

~* You can't go. I don't want you to leave....please...I'm beg-*~ Vegeta broke off, unable to say that he was begging her.

"I..can't help it." Bulma's voice was low, as if she was straining to speak. "Ve..ge...ta...I...want...you..to kno..w.."

//His heart is telling him to hang on for dear life, 'cause deep down he knows that she's letting go for good this time.//

Vegeta looked at the woman in the bed. On sudden impulse, he got into bed, and lay next to her. He kissed the top of her head, wrapping his arms around her.

"Bulma..." He felt more tears run down his face. *I've never cried this much before...you can't leave. Please...I have something I need to tell you.*

//Two young lovers with thief bodies on fire. Aching to swim that river of desire,

leaving innocence there on the bank by their clothes//

"I....l...looov....lovvv..love...you." she whispered. Her body stared to shake.

"No. Bulma, please, don't go. I-I-need you. Please. I love you, too." The proud, Sayjin prince uttered the words that he had never dared to speak before now but, it was too late.

He sensed Bulma's chi drift away. He stared in shock. "no. Dear Kami...Dende...no." He whispered.

//oh, a man holding on to a woman letting go. a man holding on to a woman.....a woman letting go.//

When he came out, he looked down. Everyone looked away; the way he stood said it to everyone. The pain in his eyes was still fresh. Bra turned into her husband; together, they comforted their children. Trunks sat down, with Pan absentmindedly running a comforting hand down his arm. ChiChi shook her head; and cried, her sobs setting off the nearest to her, Marron, and Yamcha's wife. Piccalo shifted uncomfortablely, while Gohan tried to comfort his mother and Goten. Videl held Pan close, ignoring her daughters attempt to comfort Trunks. Krillan and Eighteen sat down, dumbfounded as Marion, their daughter, stayed close and quiet. Tein, and Choustu stayed silent; Vegeta had the strange suspicion that they were praying, while Yajrobie and Dende stayed close to Launch. Vegeta, while touched by this outpour of love for his wife, still couldn't face them; his tears were still wet, and even if he wasn't crying anymore, he knew that he would again.

Feeling a hand on his shoulder, he looked up. It was Yamcha.

"I'm sorry." He said. Like Vegeta, Yamcha's eyes were wet.