Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Everything Happens For A Reason ❯ The Paranormal Gooseberry ( Chapter 17 )

Everything Happens For A Reason

Chapter Sixteen

The Paranormal Gooseberry

Disclaimer: Gosh! Do I really have to write another one of these? Okay I admit it all! I own DBZ….

…. Yeah, and Vegeta shares my bed, makes hot passionate love to me every night, while Trunks, Raditz, Bardock, and Brolli wait on the sidelines, just waiting to get tagged in. Wait a sec… just what the hell am I doing writing B/V fics anyway? Sing along with me… I'm a Mary Sue and that's okay, I suck cock all night, and kiss arse all day! Go figure….

Side Note - all the spiritual dialogue was supposed to be in italics, but mediaminer didn't seem to like that. >_<

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It is hard to explain why everything seemed to click into place at that moment and no other - why the unconscious psyche picked up on a technique the conscious had repeatedly failed at. Dreams, premonitions and visions - they all rolled under one unfathomable veil of mystery. Perhaps sleep and unconsciousness were the true paradox he had been searching for and the lack of ki he held when he slept amplified the efforts and stresses of the day.

But no matter what event triggered this phenomenon - under the comforting cloak of his blackout, Yamcha began to see things.

At first he thought it was a dream. There was a clouded and dull quality to the scene as though he had indulged in one two many shots and the air itself was lending itself to cushion his mind. It blurred his vision and strained his eyes as he pushed for cohesion. He laughed and the sound echoed. There was no reason for it to do so, and there Yamcha caught himself rationalizing - should he be able to do that in a dream? If he concentrated hard enough he was even able to give direction and purpose to his view - no dream he had experienced before had allowed him to do that.

He'd heard of such a thing before, in the 'off the wall' columns of the West Capitol Times, or on the television as professors and mediums alike argued between the scientific and paranormal tendencies of the dream state - but that didn't matter now. All that mattered to Yamcha was that he could see Capsule Corporation and the more he concentrated the clearer it became. The yellow domed family quarters shimmered in the orange nightglow of the busy city around it - the factories and offices to the east and the hangers to the west, jutting up from the beautiful, plentiful and well-attended gardens.

There was a slight wind, breezing in from the north, making the air hold the promise of frost. It was as though he were floating in mid air, stalling a moment in anticipation of seeing his girl, just as he had on so many occasions before. That was when he was alive, because even though it didn't matter at that moment, Yamcha knew his physical body was still in Other World. For now though, all he wanted was to see her - not as he had through the demon screen, but how his heart yearned, with both sight and sound.

-"Bulma."-

Where was she?

All he could think about and concentrate on was reaching her - to hear her voice - to see those beautiful blue eyes and remember how they could glisten in good spirits and spit fire in bad. Oh gods! He missed her so much.

This scene held so many memories - memories they had shared together. He drew in closer but rather than floating down and ringing the doorbell, he simply dove through the wall, just as though he were a ghost - because in her reality - he was.

It was late at night, long after the normal house hours, but as her mind pulled him through the maze of corridors and rooms, he was certain that she wasn't sleeping. He could see the light, spilling out from the kitchen door as he came to the last corner.

Perhaps it would have been wise for Yamcha to wonder why she was up this late in the first place, why there were two shadows in the kitchen rather than one, and why there was no sound other than the heavy breathing, being strung like music through the corridor he floated down - but he was too happy to question her actions. All he could think about was the new relationship with her he was going to instigate as her invisible guardian angel this night - the beginning of the new plan for his life and the progression he had made as a man.

He would show her now just how much she meant to him, and how much he regretted his previous indiscretions. How dying had made him realize just what he was abusing and which had ultimately forced him to grow and mature into the man he wanted to be. He would, by watching over her tonight, send this new unspoken promise to look after her for all the days ever after - only her. His Bulma.

Had someone been able to see Yamcha in all his paranormal grandeur, then they might have been surprised at how little emotion he held as he saw his girlfriend, pushed up against the kitchen cupboards and straddling powerful Saiyajin thighs. They might have questioned how calm his face looked and how low and mellow his heart thumped under such a discovery, but therein laid the truth. Yamcha had expected this - his thoughts, ambitions, and plans, they had all accounted for Vegeta. There was nothing now to beat himself up over, because (thanks to his time in Other World) he knew that to get angry would be to stab himself in the back.

He wasn't surprised, wasn't so much as hurt - he held no jealousy and passed no judgement on Bulma. It was to be expected. He knew evil, had felt it countless times, it had a way of manipulating, of pandering to your whim, and finally, once you had fought your last battle against it and lost, it took you in. No. Bulma was blameless, it was the alien who was to blame, and now, having seen this, he would control his disappointment and turn it into instant forgiveness.

Vegeta had poisoned her mind, taken her control and made her a puppet for his dark and disgusting sexual urges. How could he hold this over her head? It was all him - Vegeta, but Yamcha would break the spell. Good always triumphed over evil. Purity would vanquish contamination, and he would be the one to save her.

Despite all this, despite his own assertions, Yamcha was indescribably relieved to see black lace and shorts still in place - he had come at just the right time. Perhaps that was why he had been dragged there in the first place. The gods had willed him to witness this first hand and had given him the chance to stop Vegeta before his girl became even more defiled by him.

He stepped over her work shirt, ripped at the buttons and flung to the wayside, and around the breakfast stool, snagging a muddied and sweaty blue vest. He disregarded the alien, grabbing more of her flesh than was appropriate - his cruel lips slithering their tainted path down her neck, and as Bulma arched her back, Yamcha slid in behind.

He perched on the worktop, wrapping his ghostly legs around her waist - his arms trailing around her chest and through the Saiyajin's hold. Securing her as best he could without disappearing into her body, Yamcha put his head to hers - his lips to her ear - letting his spirit entwine her soul. Vegeta was trying to claim her as his own, but Yamcha wouldn't let him. He spoke, not in person, but as one essence embracing another.

-"Bulma,"- he murmured into her lobe, -"why are you doing this?"-

He waited but there was no reply.

-" This isn't what you want, I know you don't."-

He traced a finger along the elegant line of her jaw, letting the digit enter her flesh and touch her spirit. It tingled and tickled with his excitement and exploration.

-"You have to listen to me. Open your eyes and look at what you're doing - you have to see how wrong it is."-

She shivered, and he felt warmth engulf him. Her spirit was responding, he knew it.

-"I know what he is doing to you, I can see his evil, Bulma. I can feel it. He wants to consume you with it - he wants his darkness to surround you. He's using you and it's wrong. You're stronger… your spirit is stronger. Stop him."-

She gasped as the Saiyajin moved down to her chest, getting his distorted kicks by suckling on her perfect flesh.

>"I can't. He's going to leave me. I don't want him to go."<

Yamcha drew in a shaky breath. She had spoken to him. No. Her lips hadn't moved. Her soul had reached out to his, just as his had hers, and he thought he was going to die all over again under the pleasure it brought. The Saiyajin may be claiming her body, but her essence, her mind - it was reaching out to his, and his alone.

-"That's because he has polluted your mind. He is evil Bulma - always has been, always will be. He wants to break us up, to hurt us just as he has all of his victims. Don't let him win."-

>"He isn't evil, not all of him, can't you see that? I want to do this, I can help him."<

-"No! He's just preying on your vulnerability - can't you see that? Don't let him seduce you."-

>"I need to. It feels so right, so good. He'll be gone in two days, one way or another. I can't let him go without experiencing this. I would never be content if I didn't have him, just once."<

For the first time since entering the room, Yamcha could feel the bile rise to his throat. Did she even realize whom she was speaking to, pleading with? He tried to be complacent, to be calm, but to hear such words from her.

-"Bulma,"- He almost sobbed her name. -"Have you forgotten me so quickly? Have you forgotten our love - all the years we have shared by each other's side? It's me that loves you. Yamcha - not Vegeta. Don't ever forget that! He doesn't care about you Babe, I do. I'm the one that loves you. You have to listen to me."-

She whimpered, not in her thoughts but out loud, a tear sliding down her cheek as the Saiyajin moved down to her waist, tasting her flesh as though the devil had given him a right to.

>"Yamcha,"< she sighed. >"Oh Yamcha!"<

-"Yes, Babe. It's me. Please listen to me. Stop this. I can't bear to see him using you like this."-

>"But look at him, Yamcha. Look at the passion on his face, look at the intensity and desire in his eyes. You once looked at me like that, you once held me like he is."<

Yamcha stifled the urge to cry out. Tears were threatening to make his vision swim as Bulma pointed straight to where he had failed her most.

-"And I will again,"- he vowed. -"But with ten times more feeling than Vegeta. It's all an act Bulma. He doesn't know how to feel, not like a human, not like me."-

She whimpered again, bringing her hands up to her neck as though embracing his ethereal body and keeping it close. He could win this! She didn't want to let him go, not yet. She was just confused that was all. He had to have patience, needed to show her that he did care and to ignite all the good memories within her while burying all the bad.

-"Hey Bulma,"- he began. -"Do you remember when I took you to Towada Lake?"- He let his lips touch her temple. -" You said you always wanted to fly over the volcanic caldera lake, to see it properly - a full three hundred and sixty degree view and without the restrictions of a machine? We flew for hours over the mountain. I even dipped under the lake's surface, letting the crystal clear water splash up either side of us as we carved our very own tunnel through it. Do you remember how the cherry blossoms bloomed under the spring sunshine that day, around the rim and how we found the clearing high up on the craters edge? A little haven with grass along the top and one cherry blossom cascading its branches over the sheer drop either side."

>"Mmmm, Tobucha,"< she sighed. >"Our special place."<

Oh god! He was winning, and he felt new confidence flood through him as he saw Vegeta look quizzically up to Bulma, one eyebrow raised. Yes, this was it. The monkey could try all he liked, but she was his now.

-"You looked so beautiful, Bulma, with the sun setting behind your head, even though it was dull in comparison to the spirit and brilliance in your eyes. You had the pink chiffon dress on that your mother helped me pick out for your birthday, the one that had the double spaghetti straps and the glitter woven into the fabric. You looked like an angel to me as you slinked your way up to me and put your hand on my chest. Do you remember how you whispered 'I love you,' and had to push up on tiptoes to kiss me. We made love at one thousand feet above sea level, and afterwards you cried as I held you and told you that, "I loved you too." You were so beautiful, so sexy."-

-"Tell me you remember,"- he pleaded. -"Tell me that all the words we shared that day meant something to you. That you're going to keep your promise and grow old with me, that together we'll show the world what true happiness is. Tell me you remember!"

She was sobbing now, on the outside as much as the inside, her small body trembling under the Saiyajin's hold. Indeed her flesh was becoming colder to the monkey, just as her spirit was filling him with more and more of its warmth.

>"I remember, Yamcha. I still love you, oh god… I'm so confused. What do I do?"<

-"Tell him no, Bulma. Stop it now, before you regret it later. He's going to be gone Bulma… gone, and then it will be just you and I. You don't want Vegeta to leave, but he's going to, whether you have sex with him or not, he will cause you so much pain."-

>"You caused me pain."<

-"And I hate myself for it. I want a clean break. I want us to remember the good times and cling onto them, because I promise you, death has changed me. When I'm resurrected I will make you feel loved in a way you can't even begin to imagine - real, durable, love. Please don't doubt me. I've changed. Tell him no and I'll show you how much."-

>"I can't, he's my friend and I love him."<

Vegeta had stopped his exploration. It looked to Yamcha as though he were going to explode from trying to hold his anger in.

That's it, he encouraged, careful to guard his thoughts from Bulma. Lose it Vegeta. Show her that I'm right. Show her how much you care. Feh! Yeah right. Give me a break!

"What is wrong with you, Woman!" the prince demanded.

"Vegeta!" she croaked in response, reaching out a hand to touch his face.

To Yamcha's surprise, Vegeta let her stroke his forehead. "I thought you wanted this!" he said.

She sobbed - a long hard cry that shook Yamcha's heart.

"I do!"

Vegeta lowered her feet to the kitchen tiles and let her stand on wobbly legs as those blood stained and murderous hands reached out to swab a thumb along her cheek. They picked up the crystalline drops that had fallen from her eyes, as though their purity lent cause to his lies and deceit. His left hand roughly grabbed her chin and shoved the other to her face. "Then tell me what these are for?" he hissed, making her see her tears as they glistened on his hand.

-"Tell him, Bulma. Tell him no!"-

>"I can't!"< her mind screamed. "I can't!" her voice echoed.

-"Tell him!"-

"Tell me!"

Bulma's body and spirit looked broken. Yamcha was sure that if Vegeta weren't pinning her to the cupboard then she would have fallen by now. "I can't," she whimpered, bringing a hand to Vegeta's as he kept hold of her chin. "I can't… I love you both, but I can't… please… please don't make me choose."

-"You don't have to, Babe!"- Yamcha insisted, realizing this was his opportunity to finish her and Vegeta once and for all. -"Vegeta has already made his choice. You said it yourself. He's going to leave, no matter what. In two days, one way or another you will probably never see him again, and it is his choice, not yours."

Yamcha had the pleasure of seeing Vegeta move away from her even as he spoke. Now it was all unravelling wasn't it? Now the truth was coming out. So monkey breath didn't like her using the 'L' word.

-"Say it to him again, Bulma. Tell him you love him, look at his face. If you couldn't see the lies before, then look at him now. Is this what you want?"-

>"Not so long ago all I wanted was you, Yamcha. Why did you leave me? I've been so lonely. Why did you…?"<

Her body couldn't take any more and he watched in alarm as she collapsed on the floor. He bent over her and tried to wipe away the teal strands of hair that fell over her tear smeared face, but alas, his fingers went straight through. -"Bulma!"- he begged.

>"So lonely,"< she sniffled into his thoughts. >"So tired… can't choose."<

There was no more.

Yamcha felt her heat leave him, seeping out of his embrace and immersing itself back into her body. His possession had been too much for her tired body to handle. Her natural healing mechanism was kicking in, demanding sleep and time to recuperate. He sighed in relief and looked to Vegeta. The Saiyajin prince was looking haughtily down at her broken body, as though unsure of what he should do next. Yamcha sighed again. It had been a close call, and without a doubt her passing out was better than the alternative.

If he had been able, Yamcha would have picked up his girl by now, would be holding her to his heart and silently vowing to stay close by her all night, but it wasn't going to happen. As much as he willed it to be otherwise, every time he tried to secure her body to his, he failed.

Then… as he watched, two strong arms, slid through his, cupping her flesh where his hands did, but these hands didn't come up empty.

Vegeta.

The bastard had clambered his way out of shock and was now obliging in an honour that wasn't supposed to be his to claim. He effortlessly picked up her unconscious body, letting her blue tresses fall over his broad shoulders as he held her tight. Yamcha could still see the anger swimming in his gaze, but now he realized where Vegeta's true anger laid, and his mouth opened slightly in astonishment.

The monkey had reached the door and almost stepped through it when he turned, not looking directly at Yamcha, but scouring the room as though he knew something was out of place. He chuckled - a dry and ungodly sound, dripping with his poorly hidden ire.

"You did well," Vegeta barked. "I didn't sense you until the last. What wonderful new tricks the goons in heaven are teaching! Though really I'm not surprised. I bet the whole of Earth is crawling with the Kai's spies, just waiting for me to slip up - but rest assured, Human, I intend to survive the next few days and even if I don't … I do not forgive and I do not forget. Watch your back."

With one last scourging glance around the room, Vegeta turned and left.

Despite the warning, Yamcha followed. This night was his victory, his gain, and the triumph of all that was good in Other World. He wouldn't let Vegeta brush him off so easily. Even as the Saiyajin bristled and growled, Yamcha followed, and as an alien foot nudged open the door to her quarters, strode across the communal living area and on to lay her on her very own bed, he did not leave. Instead, as Vegeta turned to leave Bulma and the room, Yamcha laid down on the bed next to her, stroking her hair and breathing in her perfume.

He closed his eyes, knowing that when he opened them again he would be in his prison reality, watched over by the Kai's and abused by Shuma, but it didn't matter. He'd won! For tonight Bulma was his and he was going to cling on to her for as long as he could.

-"I love you."- he sighed.

>"Mmm, Yamcha."<

And then, for him, everything was right.

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A/N - I'm sorry this chapter took me so long. I hope you like where I'm taking this story…

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*Chuckles*

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You didn't really think I was going to make it that easy for B and V, did you? ;)