Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Feeding Genius ❯ Reconciliation? ( Chapter 15 )

Feeding Genius

Chapter Fifteen

Reconciliation?

Disclaimer: DBZ never has been and never will be mine. It's just plain not fair!

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For some reason it feels wrong to turn the lights on. I just can't bring myself to interrupt her sleep. Besides… the glint of the stars and the soft glow of the space station give me enough sight to keep my silent vigil as they melt gently over her skin. This is another prime example of selfishness on my part. I know that as soon as those fine lashes open I will no longer be privileged enough to run my finger along the ridge of her cheekbones or inhale the delicious mix of spices that perfume her hair as I am right now. I am such a mess. Look at me! Fawning over her, feeling tingles of excitement jumping up my spine just at the merest of touches. I'm such a joke to the last of my species, but then do I care?

Yes I do. My mind is screaming at me that this isn't right, shouldn't be happening and yet it is all irrelevant under the emotion of the moment, because I care for her more. There… you have it from me first hand, you have me at everything, because as I look down upon the Chikyu-jin sprawled on the black silk sheets of my bed all my anger is gone. I don't know what has happened in these three months, what changes have been wrought in her life or what witchcraft has been tricked into mine, but nothing that happened matters to me anymore. I see my own behaviour in our last meeting as everything that was suspicious and absurd. That morning has not sat well in my stomach ever since she left planet and embarked on this mission to Gleya. It makes me even more on edge when I see what those three months have done to her.

I watch for longer, kneeling on the floor, trying not to touch her anymore. I risk waking her and I can't confront the implications of what that might mean… not yet… and so I find myself stuck in the role of the patient observer.

Such a coward!

Several minutes pass in this manner, and within that time, my pride is waging war against the humanness that despite every rebuttal, has still managed to invade my mind. It is no good! I can't do it any longer, either I will have to leave and confront her when my thoughts are more settled or wake her now and have it all out in the open once and for all. I can feel this torture of non-ground, eating into my sanity. I need action, whether that is in exertion or confrontation.

With a new sense of purpose I rise. It will only be a matter of minutes before Maek Suh returns with Trunks. I will meet her half way and spare us both some trouble. Trunks and I can then take a tour of the station, perhaps go to the training levels to start that all illusive training programme I promised him. With my mind renewed and refreshed I make it to the door before I realize my mistake. Bulma. I can't leave her. What if Faylorn were to try these rooms next. I would be handing her to him on a plate.

Fortunately, or not, it seems that I might be spared from the dilemma. I can hear the rustle of fabric. It trails through the air like a whisper to otherworld itself. For some reason I hold my breath. Idiot! As if it will influence the outcome.

As I turn I can see her arms moving, her shoulders rising, being pushed from the bed. I do not move. Her eyelids crease once before they slowly peel open.

A fraction longer and she is sitting with her knees up, one small hand gouging the sleep from her eyes and the other running through her hair. She looks so defeated, even through the hold of sleep. Part of me wants to march forward and demand an explanation, but despite the rebelliousness of concern, my rationale is still functioning normally. It is screaming at me to stay put, so she has a chance to get her bearings on her own. I cannot rush her. If that were to happen, I fear it would be disastrous for us both.

Her hands stop, her whole body tenses and she sits as still as a statue. She quirks her head and I can see the confusion etched onto her features as she looks up.

I exhale slowly. She has not seen me, but at least now she knows that something isn't right. It dissolves the spell I felt cast under and once again puts me on ground I know. My guard is up, my body poised and my mind alert. Adrenalin is pumping through my veins at an alarming rate. All that is missing is the battle, but that will come… too soon it will come.

Confusion turns to panic, as she searches aimlessly in the dark for a connection to solve the riddle. "Shit!" I hear her whisper, her voice thin and strained. "Where the fuck am I?" She gets up slowly from the bed and I am glad that her eyesight is not as evolved as mine. The shadows conceal me well. I was right to keep the lights off.

She looks like a frightened little bird that has strayed too far from the nest as she looks out of the large glass window, trying to asses what is going on. "Well… I'm still on the station." She finally reasons. "I don't know what the fuck's going on, but I'm not going to sit around here waiting for it to happen!"

With a speed that is impressive for such a limited creature she is already at the computer consol typing into the machine at a hurried and nervous pace. "Holy shit!" She gasps, still keeping her voice to an impressive whisper. The woman is doing well. Such well-kept faculties are essential for any creature mated to a Saiyan. I had seen the potential for it before now, but never witnessed it first hand. "I can't believe this." She continues, "I'm on a completely different deck… even the opposite side of the station. How the fuck did I get here!"

She pauses to think for a moment and shrugs her shoulders. "I need to find out who is staying here." She mumbles. "Ok then Commander. Lets see if the code I… borrowed… from you, really works." Carefully she lifts a panel from the front and stares curiously at the circuitry underneath as she extracts a pin from her hair.

For some reason I find her ingenuity amusing. Abandoning my cover I chuckle slightly.

I can here her lungs clutch for oxygen as she gasps and turns around trying to peer into the darkness. "Who's there?" She demands, holding the pin in what is laughably supposed to be a threatening manner. What is she hoping to do, acupuncture her captor into submission?

"There's no need for you to destroy the computer Bulma." I say, sedately. "I'm the one who brought you here."

Lifting my arm I find the switch on the wall behind me, and flick the lights on. The aid of vision is unnecessary, because she is already whispering the word that makes me wish that there were not so many insurmountable barriers between us, but I need to see her features anyway.

"Vegeta."

My face doesn't move, my stature doesn't change, but I can feel my insides constrict painfully.

"Yes."

Instantly her hand is held over her mouth, her pallid complexion, blanching more. I don't know how to take this event. She is staggering to the bed in an effort to keep herself upright. Is she going to be sick or is there something else that is causing her to behave so strangely? Even though I try to control it I can feel my features play into concern, and I take a step forward.

She holds up a hand and shakes her head. I stop, more confused than I would like to admit, but she needs time and damn my impatience to HFIL and back… I will give it to her.

At length it looks as though she is ready to speak. She turns to look at me, her eyebrows are drawn and twisted. She is so pale, unlike her usual self. "Why…?"

I wait… expectant… but some constricting of her throat stops her from asking more. Does the sight of me really turn her stomach that much? I can feel my blood rise and my pride falter under the suspicion.

"Your quarters were no longer safe." I offer in way of an explanation, "There was nowhere else I could take you."

She doesn't respond.

"You weren't safe." I continue, "I…"

"I heard you the first time." She whispers. I wish I could decipher the emotion behind it. "How very noble of you."

"There was nothing noble in it Bulma. It was an act of necessity."

"And so will be getting the hell out of here!" She hisses.

Her tone is bitter, but I am not put off by it. Quite the opposite… I wouldn't expect anything less.

"Oh?" I question somewhat cruelly. "And where would you choose to go?"

"As far away from you as possible of course!"

"Of course." I snarl. I want to dismiss the comment, but it is painful. I look sternly at her, and perhaps she can see that her words have affected me because there is not so much hatred in her eyes as I had witnessed a moment ago. I am not sure if I am glad or angry that she sees through me so easily, and that I am so open to pain from her words. Is she reading that in me, searching through my eyes, and seeing my indecisiveness?

"I'm going back." She whispers, turning away from me.

"I can't let you do that Bulma." I growl, roughly. "No matter how much you hate me or want to be out of my sight. If you go back your life will be in danger. You will have to remain here until I can ascertain that there is no more threat."

Under the latter half of my speech she turns on me, and now I can see it… the anger, the pain, the hurt in her eyes. "You have no hold over me Vegeta!" She snaps, moving forward and jabbing me with an index finder, "You've had no say in my life ever since I poured my heart out to you and you slapped it straight back in my face. I am not going to stay here with you!" Her features are set… determined. "And you can't stop me either!"

Her hand is at the keypad, but I will not let her use it. "Oh…?" I grin sadistically. "Can't I?"

She turns like a coiled viper, ready to strike. Indeed the look from her eyes almost drips poison, but in the end what is a snake to the Saiyan no Ouji? In a flicker of a second I am already behind her, having grabbed both alternate upper-arms, and pinned them effortlessly behind her back.

I close my eyes and try to force down the sensation that being so close to her inspires. To hold her still I have to keep my front pressed into her back and the urge to embrace rather than restrain is far too strong. I growl at such insubordination from my own limbs, but there is a moment, a brief exchange that gives me hope. Bulma's initial reaction is not to pull away or shout, as I had thought it would be, but to lean back on her arms, closing the gap even more. I triumph over it, as I can see and feel her shiver.

It is short-lived glory.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" She is trying to turn her head to face me, and I can feel her arms tense in desperation.

I lean my head over her shoulder. "Are you trying to get away because I have taken your freedom, or because being so close to me still excites you, just the same as it does me?"

"Vegeta! Let me go!"

"No."

She hangs her head in defeat, knowing all too well that she can do nothing to escape. "Why are you doing this?"

"I've told you Bulma. You're life is in danger, and when I took you as my wife, I swore a vow to keep you safe. I am fulfilling that. A creature by the name of Faylorn it seems would like to see anyone associated with me suffer. He knows where your quarters are and what you are to me."

"And what am I to you Vegeta?" She sneers. "Some liar who can't think beyond her own business, and couldn't give a shit about anyone who gets in her way?"

"No."

"That's more or less of what you accused me of when we last met."

"You are my mate under Saiyan law and my wife under human. It is my duty to protect you. Everything else is irrelevant."

I can here her choke on that. "Irr… Irrelevant? Is love, caring, trust irrelevant too?"

"No." I acknowledge.

"Is the pain, the hurt, the heartache I've suffered because of you irrelevant?"

"No, but if it is equally shared, then what?"

"Then nothing…" she spits.

There is no reply for that and all at once we are thrown into silence. It gives me a chance to observe. I still don't like what I see, the passion has served to add a little colour to her cheeks, but still I am concerned.

From the corner of her eye I can see that Bulma is watching me. "What are you looking at?"

"You aren't well." I comment.

"No shit Sherlock."

"Tell me what is wrong."

"It's nothing to do with you Vegeta!" Her voice is pleading, perhaps even emotionally cracked. She struggles and I can hear that she is breathing heavily. Are those tears?

I can't help it. In a moment I have released my restraining hold, only to reapply it in an embrace that encompasses both her arms. I draw her closer, nuzzling against her porcelain skin. "Tell me what is wrong." I repeat.

"Nothings wrong with me." She affirms. "I'm just exhausted that is all. Physically, mentally, and emotionally exhausted. I've been working non stop for the last three months, with no help, no happiness and nothing but the thought of returning to earth and showing you what a mistake you made when you accused me of not being able to do this on my own. Driven by nothing but the thought of making you see what you're really missing out on, what you screwed up and could never get back! Do you have any idea what you've done to me Vegeta? Do you?"

"Yes," I agree, "I know exactly what I have done, because it has hurt me just as much onna."

I let her turn to face me, allowing her eyes to search mine. In turn I try to untangle the thoughts behind hers. I rub her back as I cradle her gently. I can't read them. Damn her! I can feel my possessiveness take over. Like so many Saiyan traits it is primal and powerful. Her close proximity is driving this forgotten or recessive urge insane and my body is set on fire by it. Without even thinking I am pulling her towards me, pressing her body along mine, and my lips to her neck.

"Vegeta… no…" She protests, but I don't miss the way her arms instinctively entwine around my waist and how she leans back so beautifully to expose more of her throat to me.

I take the invitation. "None of it matters Bulma." I whisper, "None of it matters. Not anymore. Only you." I don't care if she wants to hear this or not. She will listen. "I swear to you on my honour. I've been a baka, implacable and absurd, but this… this we both need. Tell me you don't."

"I… I…" She is clinging to me and I can feel her tears against my neck. "I do… and that's what hurts me the most. Damn you!" She curses, between sobs. "Damn you Vegeta! I hate you. I hate you for making me like this."

I chuckle over her skin as I capture her lips with mine. "Be assured Bulma. The feeling is mutual."

In this moment, everything is forgotten. Bulma pulls me onto her, embracing me and returning the kiss with as much power and need as I am displaying. I do not want to think too carefully on this. All I want to do is feel, experience. I have been denied this too long. My pride and my foolishness have denied it to me. I must have her.

Nervously her hands trail over my chest. I walk her over to the bed, laying her down on the soft mattress and using my body to crush her into it. I let my vision trail over her face. There are still tears. Not even thinking about it I brush them away. Tentatively she reaches a hand to my own face, running her fingers over my forehead, smoothing the frown lines. "I missed you." She whispers, "I knew you were here. Have known since you were first allowed on the station." There is a pause, followed by a slight giggle. "I can't believe Trunks managed to manipulate you into letting him come with you."

I look down at her curiously, resting over her on my forearms. "You aren't angry I brought the boy?"

"No… just amazed you've managed to put up with him for as long as you have. He is still in one piece right?"

"Yes." I confirm, "God only knows how I managed to pull that one off."

She smiles. "You idiot!"

"Yes." I reply, leaning down again. This time I move my hand over the corseted section of her dress, feeling her breasts through the lush fabric. She closes her eyes and moans. In turn, she is fumbling with my armour, trying to get access to my chest. Chuckling I sit up on her, unclip it and pull it over my head, throwing it heavily away. Whilst I am doing this she is trying to get rid of her own garments.

"Shit!" she exclaims, "I can't undo the clasps at the back. Under my legs she flips onto her stomach. "Could you…?"

She doesn't need to ask twice. My hands descend to her shoulders and are slowly releasing the cusps at the back, as my lips trail behind.

Suddenly my hands stop. "What the hell is that noise?"

Bulma looks awkwardly up at me, her features twisted in confusion. "What noise? I can't hear anything." She turns again, using her hands to pull at my face, directing my attention back to her.

I want to follow, but still I can't get over the feeling that something isn't right. "It's low." I say, more to myself than her.

"Can you sense where it's coming from?"

Of course! I'm such an idiot! I close my eyes, training my senses and clearing my mind. "Shit!" I exclaim.

"What Vegeta… what is it?"

"Its power… living power… immense living power, and more than one."

I think my heart just stopped beating. I feel sick to the stomach as I feel each individual one again… just to make sure.

"There are three of them." I can't breathe. "Trunks."

I don't think, don't even wait to give Bulma further explanation, in an instant I gather her into my arms, powering up and moving.

"TRUNKS!"

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A/N - Wow! This chapter was fun to write. I think it's because I've had it worked out in my mind for so long. If anyone's interested then I have done some relevant fanart for this chapter. You can find it at this link http://www.deviantart.com/view/2570359/ See you soon for the next chapter. - Ember