Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Fixation ❯ Chapter Ten ( Chapter 10 )

Disclaimer: I don't own or profit from DBZ.

A/N: Once again Kinky_Typo has made some fantastic fanart for us to enjoy based on a scene from the previous chapter. Please go view her beautiful art and leave some comments. She would love to hear from you all. http://kinky-typo.deviantart.com/#/d2x1kux For fanfiction dot net fans her website is linked on my homepage.

MUST READ:

Vengeance by Catgirl26. A well thought out A/U that has a detailed adventure packed plot and insightful relationships. The author has an excellent handle on all the character's personalities including the pervert Roshi, and has excellent dialogue. Though primarily a V/B get together it has some G/CC loveliness and some creepy doctor Gero action going on.

You'll Be The Death Of Me by Niteryde. An excellent retelling of the three year get together. The author takes it slow and steady and allows the characters to develop themselves without a rehash of the same old events. Instead the author has fresh ideas and plunges to new emotional depths.

As I write this, I'm aware of my lack of attention to reviews. Don't be like me. Read and review their work. They deserve it.

MUST WATCH:

All can be found on Netflix.

Australia: Love knows no class boundaries. I didn't watch this movie when it originally came out in 2008 and I seriously regret it. Firstly, bare-chested Hugh Jackman, yum. Secondly, a sweeping epic romance reminiscent of the 1930's Casablanca-esque cinema. Interesting cinematography that some might find disconcerting, I still think it is a love story that deserves cuddle time on the couch with your lover and a bowl of popcorn.

Satisfaction. Love can't be bought, but it can be rented. An Australian show-time original this sexy series is a story of high-class call girls, their relationships, their friendship and their frisky fetishes.

Thirsty. Obsession is still love. As with most Korean movies you need persistence and determination to watch it all the way through. The payoff is that “wtf” feeling in the pit of your stomach. No sparkly vampires here.

Jekyll. Even true evil knows its soul mate. This British miniseries is awesome. A fresh retelling of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde this story had me riveted from beginning to end. Actor James Nesbitt's portrayal of “switching” personalities is chilling.

Chapter Ten

Bulma awoke to the world shifting beneath her. She was enveloped by warmth and a soft, soothing rumble. She licked her dry lips, her tongue flicking against salty male skin. She cracked her eyes, focusing first on the dancing pink elephant, then on the prancing unicorn. Her brow furled as she wondered what exactly passed for morning cartoons these days. She could tell they were singing, but sometime during the night the television must have been muted. She had never been more thankful.

Thinking of last night made her remember exactly whose warm, rumbling body she was using as a perch. She tilted her chin, sliding her cheek against Vegeta's smooth chest to peek up at him. His dark lashes were crested over his cheeks, his brow completely unlined. The look of peace on his face was compelling. The rumbling was more like the deep contented purr of a large cat rather than a snore, and its rhythmic vibrations were drugging. Her eyes fluttered, as she stretched her body over his, scraping her nails over his flat nipple as she unconsciously curled her hand.

The purring stopped and her eyes shot open. Vegeta was watching her with dark impenetrable eyes. The lines were back in his brow. She suddenly felt as if she had committed some great sin by daring to be in his presence. With measured movements, she sat up, sliding between his thighs. Surreptitiously, she whipped her mouth, afraid she may have drooled all over herself. He lay immobile and silent beneath her. He might as well been a rock for all the emotion he showed. Bulma turned away from his heavy stare, watching the dancing unicorn.

“I, um, going to go take a shower.”

She carefully crawled over his leg, not wanting to inadvertently squish something soft. She performed a quick pat test as she was rising to make sure her clothing was covering all the right spots. Not that it shouldn't. It had all remained firmly in place last night, unlike Vegeta's shirt which was now tangled around her left foot, trying to bring her down. She kicked it away, glancing shyly over her shoulder at Vegeta who was still reclining on the couch, shirtless, his shorts bunched a little too high.

Her cheeks warmed looking at him, and she licked her kiss-swollen lips, trying to steal a lingering taste of him. Something fiery sparked in Vegeta's eyes as he watched the tip of her tongue. Reassured that everything was right in the world as she knew it, she flashed him a quirky smile before bouncing off to the guest bathroom to clean up.

Vegeta had been a perfect gentleman last night. His hands never left the couch as they kissed, exploring each other's likes and dislikes, tastes and sensations, for hours. She ran her hands over his hard, sculpted chest, memorizing every dip and curve, held his hand for comfort whenever she felt the slightest tensing of nervousness in her spine, and not once did he object. Not once did he try to force more. She would have been concerned that he was unaffected if hadn't been for the way he eagerly took the lead in their kisses and the hardness of his erection pressed between them. But not once did he indicate that he wanted more than she was willing to give.

If he was a normal man, and she a normal woman she might be tempted to call it love. But he was evil and she was damaged, and for them love was a broken thing discarded in the corner long ago.

She smiled into the spray, and threw her hands over her head, silently thanking the gods she found someone like Vegeta. She let the hot water run over her, and she was nearly done before she had a stray thought that someone might be watching. She dug up a hot pink summer dress from the back of her cramped closet in the guest bedroom. Since being resurrected she shunned bright, revealing garments, but today was a new day, and she was becoming a new woman.

By the time she entered the common area; Vegeta was showered and dressed. He was casually leaning against the counter, somehow making the act of munching on dry toast look sexy. She smiled brightly at him, unaware of how it affected him.

“You've taken too long. You'll have to eat in your office.”

He brushed his fingers off, and took a determined step towards her. She held her hands up to ward him off, and he paused.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, her hands fisting in front of her.

“I feel great!” she burst out. She looked at him smiling.

“Fantastic,” Vegeta returned dryly.

“I think—I think today I'm going to spend some time with my mother.”

Vegeta raised a dark, slashing brow, noting how much her determination cost her by the tense set of her shoulders.

“Yeah?”

“Yes.” She nodded sharply.

As he turned to leave, she caught him by the arm. He looked at her expectantly, his muscles twitching with longing beneath her touch. She had trained his body well last night, he'd give her that. She had him purring beneath her like a pet kitten, and as angry as that thought made him, he found he wasn't all that opposed to doing it again.

“I'll see you tonight?” She was looking up at him from beneath her lashes, her cheeks a dusty pink. Against his express wishes his fingers brushed over the cheek that had lain against his chest so intimately this morning. She was as soft as silk and just as smooth. His fingers slid off the point of her chin. He nodded and walked away.

Bouncing a little Bulma made her way out the front door, and it wasn't until she was on the ground floor of the house that she began to feel nervous. She paused at the foot of the stairs and took a deep breath, wrangling her skittish thoughts and corralling them. She absolutely knew that no one could get her here. She was safe in her home. She was safe beneath Vegeta's shadow. Her heart lighter than it had been in weeks she made her way towards the kitchen.

Bunny was humming lightly as she flipped another pancake. Mr. Briefs was in his lab, but without fail she was making him his breakfast. They had servants aplenty to attend to the task, but cooking for her family had always been the best part of her day. A housebot was nearby with a tray already decorated with a single rose and a glass of milk waiting for the addition of the pancakes before rolling off to deliver breakfast to the master of the household.

“Mama.”

Bunny started, but years of expert hosting kept her hand steady as she slid the last cake onto the plate. The bot beeped and wheeled away. With a overflowing smile Bunny started towards Bulma, but the slight tensing of her daughter's frame pulled her up short. Bunny's hand tightened on the spatula as a deep sense of sadness and failure welled up inside her. Hiding her upset she patted her hair into place and reaffixed her quivering smile.

“Bulma dear, I'm so happy to see you. Pancakes?”

“That would be wonderful, Mama,” Bulma chirped and quickly pulled out a seat. Bunny was awed at the visible change in her daughter. Her lips weren't drawn tight in fear and her eyes were no longer sunken and dull from sleeplessness. In fact, it looked like she had even put on a little weight. Bunny took it all in with a mother's eye and she knew that no matter what Mr. Briefs said about the sweet boy Vegeta, she would love him until the day she died for the change he wrought in Bulma.

Percolated, Bunny went into a stream of nonsensical chatter covering topics from celebrity mishaps to the new spring line as she bustled around the kitchen cooking breakfast for her daughter. As she slid a plate in front of Bulma in preparation for the golden deliciousness it was about to receive she took a chance and fingered Bulma's washed out tresses. When Bulma didn't flinch away, her heart sang.

“Baby, this is terrible.”

Bulma sighed. “I know, Mom. It was all I could find under the sink.”

Bunny drew back aghast. “You used some over the counter dye on your hair?”

Bulma rolled her eyes, quite used to her mother's beauty product snobbishness.

“I wasn't quite up to going to the salon.”

“Oh, yes of course, dear.”

Bunny hurried away, snatching up the phone as she went. She dialed as she flipped another pancake. With grace that rivaled any dancer, she skipped back to Bulma with the five cakes balanced on her spatula, and slid them onto her plate.

“Who you calling, Mom?”

“Francesca.”

Bulma's fork fell to her plate with a clatter as panic gripped her tight around the throat.

“No, Mom. I can't. I can't go out.”

Bunny pinned the phone to her ear with her shoulder, and wrapped both her hands around her daughter's frame, pulling her in so that her head rested against her stomach.

“There, there my sweet baby. You aren't going anywhere. We are the Briefs. We don't go to the world, the world comes to us.” She smoothed her daughter's hair, absorbing her terrified tremors into her body. When the receptionist for Salon Estique answered she felt a wave of foreign authority wash though. This was how she could take care of her baby girl.

“Yes, this is Mrs. Briefs. I want to make an appointment for my daughter for an entire package. Massage, facial, mani, pedi and color.” She fingered her daughter's hair. “And extensions. Tell Francesca that they absolutely must match my daughter's hue. She knows exactly the shade.”

She stopped to listen, moving only slightly away as Bulma relaxed and dug into her food. She loved to see her girl with a healthy appetite.

“Within the hour,” she replied to the receptionist. She poured Bulma some more milk. “Francesca and her people are to come here.”

Bunny stiffened at the woman's replay. Bunny had always been a gracious woman. She had money and power only because she was blessed with a loving husband who was an absolute genius. She very rarely welded that power. And she never was rude.

“Listen carefully. Francesca will be at my home within the hour or I will never frequent your establishment again, and I will make certain that none of my numerous acquaintances will either. So I suggest you put aside your so called rules and make it happen. I will expect your people shortly.”

She hung up the phone and with a happy little tune began to pull out the makings for cupcakes. It seemed like a cupcake type of day.

“I love you, Mom.”

Her tune missed a note as something sticky caught in her throat.

“I love you too, baby.”

It was definitely a cupcake type of day.

****

It was late by the time Vegeta flew back from the Gravity Room. Late enough that the woman should already be asleep. His day of training had ultimately been frustrating. He hadn't been able to concentrate, his thoughts shifting between wondering what Bulma was doing and if she was alright to replying memories from the night before. He had liked it entirely too much.

Her kisses were sweet and innocent. Something he had never tasted before. And he definitely wanted to taste them again. Fuck, he wanted to do more than taste. He wanted to be inside her. He wanted to swallow her moans. He wanted to take his fucking hands off the goddamn couch and slide them along her body. Vegeta cracked his head against the doorframe as he walked into the bathroom to shower. He gripped his hard cock through his shorts and squeezed, willing away his erection.

Therein lay the root of his problem. Last night he had fallen asleep with a woman in his arms. That in itself was an oddity. Vegeta never let his guard down with another living person. Hell, sometimes he was even suspicious of corpses. But he was a different man while around Bulma. He was changed. He had never modified himself for another person. Not for Frieza. Not for his father. No one. And here he was. Keeping his hands glued to the couch like a well-trained dog, begging for scraps.

He was a man of action. If he wanted something, he took it. Plain and simple. That was the way of things. If you weren't powerful enough to take it, then you didn't deserve it. But dealing with Bulma wasn't about power. It was about control. It was about discipline. It was about putting someone else's needs above your own. Simply put, Bulma wasn't ready. She wasn't ready for a man to be on top of her, to be inside her. To be anything other than patient. Vegeta wasn't that type of man. He wasn't what she needed. But for some reason she had chosen him. Which was mind-boggling in itself, but what was even more outrageous was that he was playing along. Instead of laying her down and taking what he wanted he was actually worried that they had gone too far already. He was worried about her welfare.

And that was completely unacceptable.

In the cold shower he rubbed out his erection with the cold methodicalness that made him a master on the battlefield. He didn't even allow himself to fantasize, relying only on physical stimulation. He briskly dried himself off and pulled on a pair of clean shorts. He left the balcony doors open and reclined on the bed without bothering to get beneath the blankets. He tucked one hand beneath his hand, his other lay motionless by his side, and concentrated on the sensation of the night breeze blowing across his still slightly damp chest.

He felt the door open more than heard. The air in the room shifted, then it stilled again as the door closed. He groaned deep inside of himself where want and need were born. He refused to move. He refused to play her game.

“Go away.”

Instead she scampered across the room. He could hear her steps light as a doe's on the thick carpeting. She landed on the bed next to him, her body instantly finding its way to curl against his side. With a smooth motion he swept his prone arm in a long arch that washed her to the far edge of the bed. She grasped his hand with both her tiny ones, curling his knuckles beneath her chin. He could feel her swallow before she spoke.

“I slept for the first time last night without a single nightmare.” When she spoke like that. So soft and quiet. Like she was afraid of provoking some imaginary monster, it made something clench in his guts. He couldn't tell if the feeling was anger or protectiveness. Anger he knew. Protectiveness he had never felt. The feeling in his stomach was something he never felt.

“Good for you, now go away.

“I just thought. You know. It would be nice to sleep again tonight.”

Vegeta yanked his hand away. Wondering if her ability to cast spells on him lay in her touch. She seduced him with the softness of her skin and the fullness of her lips.

“No.”

She rose up on her elbow. The moon was behind the world this night so the shadows were too deep to see, but he thought there might be something different about the outline of her body.

“Why?”

He never knew one word could contain so much. It was sadness, hurt and bewilderment. It was need and anxiety and everything that made his stomach clench.

With fierceness he rose up so he was on his elbow facing her. His hand was fisted in the sheets to stop himself from grabbing her and rolling her beneath him.

“Because I'm just a man, Bulma. I'm the greatest warrior the universe has ever known. The prince of a noble race. The son of ancient bloodlines. But I am just a man. A man that wants to roll you over, pin you down and fuck you until your brain goes slack. I'm not an honorable man. Fuck, I'm not even a man, and without my tail I'm not a Saiyan. I'm nothing.”

He flung himself back and hid his eyes behind the crook of his arm. He felt Bulma creep closer, while keeping her distance.

“I think you are a wonderful man.”

He groaned and this time he didn't bother to hid it. “You have no idea what you are talking about you, witless female. Just shut the fuck up and leave me in peace.”

She didn't move and the silence descended between them. Vegeta relished the breeze tickling his chest.

“I don't know how to make you feel better,” Bulma confessed to the darkness.

Vegeta sighed, feeling lost. The problem with Bulma is that she made him feel alive. Until now he had just been waiting to die. Plotting it in fact. But last night, while kissing her, something had been born inside him. A tiny flicker of interest. A wondering of what life might be like from here on out. In her own way Bulma had already made him feel better, and that made him feel so much worse.

“I don't need you to do anything for me.”

“But you have done so much for me, Vegeta. Because of you I've gotten stronger every day. Every day I'm with you I conquer more of my fear. You have done that for me, and I am so thankful. I want to give you something in return.”

Vegeta's throat tightened and he didn't have a reply. He had never done anything for anyone before. Neither selfishly or unselfishly. He had never been thanked before. This woman had wrangled him into a duty he hadn't wanted to perform and now she acted as if he had granted her some great life saving gift. He rubbed his hand over his face and rolled over so his back was to her.

“Just go to sleep.”

He heard her exaltation of breath as she snuggled deeper into the bed. She didn't try to touch him, but he could feel her against his skin nonetheless.

“Sweet dreams, Vegeta.”

With no ready reply on his tongue he stared out into the night.