Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Follow on ❯ Chapter 1

Author`s note:

I`ve had my own pretty definite idea of how things went on after Buu`s defeat and finally I`ve got some time to write it. I qualify this fic as „continuation“, although you might have to wait month or two for the other chapters. I hope the necessity to continue with this fic won`t let me abandon it.

 

And another thing - I would appreciate it if a native speaker could correct my mistakes, especially with tenses:)

 

Warning - explicit adult scenes

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One could only imagine the feeling of being united with your loved ones after being shaken down with the idea of never seeing them ever again. Hearing the good news but not being able to believe that it`s not just other silly tantalizing dream which had been occuring frequently in the past seven years. One stab of unbearable pain when Chichi heard the news about Goku`s heroic death, seven years of raising a child who reminded more of his father with each passing day, another stab when seeing him float up in the sky and knowing that his increasingly vanishing figure was the very last memory of him in her life. And now here he stands, holding her in his powerful yet gentle arms. „I`m back for good, love you“.

 

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No more time needed to be wasted. Everybody on Kami's Lookout was touched by the loss and longed to be reunited with their families and friends. And finally touch the ground of their home, smell the air and breathe freely after the toughiest days of their lives. Joyful clamour ceased as the Lookout was emptying. Bulma was quick enough to wave Goku goodbye just before he disappeared along with Chichi, Gohan and Goten, leaving only hers family and Videl with Satan still there.

 

„Hey Bulma, mind if I ask you a favor? I was wondering if you had a capsule plane by any chance since my dad is.. amm.. I`m not sure I will be able to fly as far as our home holding him by the scruff.“ Videl tittered nervously.

 

„I`ll be glad to help! I always have one at my elbow. After all he's the man of the day, he deserves a comfortable ride home.” Bulma smiled a weak but sincere smile since she was too tired and emotionally drained to express anything more enthusiastic. Videl blushed not liking the way her father turned the look of events and hurried to a more spacy area to decapsule a plane.

 

Blue haired woman sighed and turned to a more shadowy place right at the edge of the platform of the Lookout where two boys of her own stood, Trunks holding still Vegeta's arm and cheerfully talking to his silent dad. “Probably expressing his awe and trying to wring the details of the fight from him.” Bulma once again smiled weakly to herself as her thoughts were focused on other things. Trunks saw a hero in his dad while Bulma witnessed his murderous power she never thought was ever to be presented once more. Trunks only heard Vegeta's plead for power and now was asking him to tell the whole story expecting to hear a heroic tale where his father was the one who defeated the deadliest of the opponents with the help of Goku while Bulma knew that story wasn't so majestic after all. Almost ten years at Vegeta's side and only during the recent battle was the first time she heard him literally plead for help. She knew her husband well enough to be able to feel his inner shameful anger that he couldn't take this one chance to regain his pride in his son's eyes. The pride and belief he was invincible that were lost along with his death at the hands of Buu. So he chose to stay quiet and wait for anybody to interfere. After all the boy carried on the conversation well by himself, asking and answering his own questions, clattering incessantly.

 

Bulma found herself just a few meters away from Vegeta and Trunks when she wakened from her complicated thoughts.

 

“Well, I suppose it's time for us to head home too. We are the only ones left here and it's getting dark.” She incited. Bulma knew dark was nothing to both Vegeta and Trunks but she still felt uncomfortable when having to travel a long way at a late time of the day.

 

Trunks' gabble stopped immediately and she heard Vegeta take in the breath of relief.

 

“Boy, fly home. We'll follow you. Now go.” Before Trunks could speak another word, Vegeta was the first one to order him, startling both Bulma and his son.

 

Having experienced that his father's orders weren't the ones to be questioned (he would't get the answer now anyway) and minding the harsh tone they were said in, Trunks took off immediately, leaving only a trace of stirred air in the place he stood just a moment ago.

 

An awkward silence sprang up between the two. They hadn't moved so were still standing a few metres away from each other, Vegeta unconsciously watching somewhere where Trunks has vanished in the horizon and Bulma exploring the ground. Her girlish side which was longing for romantic drama told her to jump on Vegeta and hold him tight, but that side made only the minority of her. Of course she longed for him! He was her man for many years now, these times of uncomfortable silence when neither of them knew what was appropriate in the situation of indistinct determination of their relationship have come and gone almost a decade ago! But one certain doubt was ignited within her and it made a reason to just stand and withhold her emotions which, she knew, would be impossible to control once released.

 

“Sooo… What's now?” She asked both quietly and curiously, knowing that Trunks had to be ordered out of the scene for some reason, moving her gaze from the ground to pierce Vegeta with it.

 

He stood still for a few moments and one could think he had missed her question.

 

“And now you fall.” He stated in emotionless voice moving to Bulma and, before she could percieve his changed position or at least yelp, he pushed her from the edge they were standing on to the gulf undearneath, jumping after her at a dash.

 

It took him less than a second to catch her in his arms, but she managed to fall a few metres until then. He positioned her more comfortably in his arms and let her catch her breath, when he powered up and flew to the direction of their home at great speed. The idea to dislodge her came to Vegeta spontaneously. It would have been even more awkward some other way. To spread his arms and ask her to come? That was just not his style.

 

Bulma was clinging on her heart with left hand and breathing deeply, the right one was wrapped around Vegeta's neck. When the shock ebbed a little, she curled her now free hand into a fist and aimed to punch at his chest only to understand the hard way that the air resistance was too much for her to handle. Despite the pain that was caused when her hand landed on Vegeta's chest somehow oddly, she gave into the craved feeling of being in his arms. Her frozen fingertips were pressed into his bare arm, holding it yet not being able to enclasp fully, head bent to protect the face from ruthless wind. How long has it been since she was last flown by somebody? Wasn't that very last time when Frieza came and she demanded Yamcha to take her to wherever they were all flying? And now, after so many years, she is finally in Vegeta's arms. The main difference is that she relied on her husband fully. Even flying at speed impossible to be reached by usual small passenger planes, she felt safe in his arms. That was not Yamcha who was adriftly swinging in the air, not being able to balance. And even though uncomfortable silence now engulfed her and Vegeta and some tension could be felt around, she knew that his hands were hard as steel and he wouldn't even flinch. And certainly he would never drop her. Never.

 

“Blame yourself. It was you who gave away the plane.” She heard as Vegeta spoke, his voice rough. But not that usual rude-rough which he used on everybody else except her unless they were seriously fighting. This time it seemed to be rough from not talking for some time.

 

Bulma didn't answer, only balled her hands to her chest to keep them warm. After flying for a while, she hawked and spoke to his chest as it was impossible to raise her head because of air resistance, although she tried at first.

 

“I just want to know…” But she was cut off by him.

 

“It is not to be discussed.”

 

Silence.

 

And then Bulma spoke again, not only sorrow in her voice. It seemed that with each word some sort of hardness in her heart was being eliminated as long kept thoughts were being expressed to the one who made them be in the first place.

 

“I could see a maniac in your eyes but when you lifted your hand I could swear to the God you wouldn't dare to fire.” She swallowed and continued. “When I got up after the blast I couldn't not notice how close it was to where I had been standing. It wasn't just a coincidence.” Another pause to find certain words to express what she was eager to say. ”Some kind of roulette, wasn't it? That second it said `no' and moved your hand a centimeter to the left. Moment before or moment after and it would have said ‎‎'yes'. And then there would be no me anymore. And what about Trunks?” She continued with tired and monotonous muted voice. “You didn't know where he was, what if he was somewhere among the crowd at which you aimed? And then later how could you just throw your life without a single thought that it's not only your life anymore, that…”

 

But her monolog was halted as they stopped suddenly in the air. Vegeta straigtened from his flight position and Bulma was quick to feel his arms shift, one enfolding her bottom and other going behind her back forming some kind of chair for her. She noticed that these powerful arms were holding her more closer to his body than necessary. She finally was able to raise her head but his neck was all she could see as he bent his head back, eyes closed, breathing deeply as if trying to lessen the tension caused by her words. And then suddenly, completely out of nowhere, when she was staring at him puzzled trying to understand his actions, he moved his head to hers and crushed their lips together, probing to her mouth to taste its insides. What was it about Bulma's control? And she lost it with that action of his. Not long ago she convinced herself that he was gone, started to accustom herself to the idea of hundreds of upcoming sleepless nights thinking about how he touched her on that very same bed in the dark of the night, what was the feeling of his kiss, kiss of a man whose personality made others doubt he had the ability to be gentle and to please at all, and Bulma was the only earthling ever to experience it. That was unbearable - to live knowing none of this could repeat. But now here she was, losing herself in the kiss she thought was impossible to get anymore, raising her hands to his thick manly neck to embrace it. She felt him moving his arm from her back to take both her delicate hands and cradle them in his when he felt her freezing fingertips on his skin, but he still didn't let her lips go, brushing it with his, caressing it with his tongue, sometimes letting himself to nip. But when he withdrew catching his breath, pulling himself together as before, he spoke.

 

“You only saw one thing, one blast, and you think you know enough but still you know nothing of what went on.” He said in a thick voice, gritting his teeth when looking her in the eyes, noses almost touching. “I was restored from the dead to destoy Buu - a mission for my pride but not for my strength. It was Kakarot who saw the situation soberly and stated that the only chance to make a difference is to fuse. I've let you deeper than anybody else, you know me, woman. Can you imagine me fusing?” Bulma shook her head a little, wide eyed not from fright but from incomprehension where he was heading with that. “No? So why are you more surprised with me fighting my enemy than fusing with him?” Vegeta stopped to see if she had any clue what he was trying to say. “Why don't you wonder why I agreed to fuse in the first place? Or why I chose death when the time came?”

 

Vegeta wanted this conversation to end and never repeat itself. Not only conversation - he genuinely wished to forget everything what had happened since the Supreme Kai appeared in the tournament and doused the fighters in curiosity. It took Vegeta less than one single day, some six or eight hours if counting precisely, to experience the inner strife trying to answer himself if his dignity was worth to be sacrificed in order to achieve his sole goal of the last ten years, only to understand that defeating Kakarot changed nothing - only that now he was alone to stand against the ultimate enemy. In the very end he came to understand that his ego, his unprecedented yearning for power and forgotten cruelty of his endangered everything he held dear, no matter how loudly he shouted to Kakarot that his family was nothing to him.

 

Vegeta shifted Bulma to the previous position and sped up, hoping the woman had something to think about and wouldn't pester him with any more questions or charges. He has lived through emotional hurricane, a breaking point of his life, he deserves silence at least, although it isn't the only thing he is craving for. When he was being choked by the monster, when the whole world was getting dark for him, when his last breath was being taken from him little by little, making experience unbearable pain, when the hope to live on was getting lost somewhere in the noise of the battle, he didn't think about how the whole universe depends on his and Kakarot's success which seemed impossible given what condition both of them was in. When death could be reached with a hand he was thinking about Bulma. His woman who gave him peace, who was strong at his side and determined to stay and wait for him to settle his priorities and finally show her some affection she had deserved. The one who had some indescribable power to get through to him, courage to order him around and - Vegeta shuddered at the thought - touch him in a ways he thought impossible, show that woman's touch can ignite other lust than one for fight. He could feel her naked thigh touching with his hand as he held her while flying and moved it almost unconsciously, his tender touch tickling her a bit but she was relaxed and dozen off in his hands. After all, she received no Dende's treatment to get back her energy after giving a great load of it to the Spirit Bomb.

 

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When they reached the yellow dome of Capsule Corp., the sun was down and the world was drowned into dusk. Vegeta could see the lights in the kitchen windows as he was landing with a sleeping woman in his arms, holding her close to his chest to keep her warm. Her mind must have finally found some sort of piece after his words as she wasn't used to him objecting to her statements about his lack of feelings towards her or Trunks so intensely, but Vegeta was sure that she had in store for him a long and tiring conversation trying to sweat answers to his questions out of him. Vegeta looked at her sleeping face with a scowl but soon his expression softened. It was time to get up, Trunks must have felt them land and will be soon to enter the front yard along with woman's parents. Vegeta graced his gloved finger along her cheek and removed a strand of blue hair from it.

 

“Wake up, woman.” He said in gentle yet rough voice but she didn't flinch. Only when sonorous voice of her mother sounded in the doorway she blinked sleepily, yawning, not being able to orient, only to be surprised to find herself in her husband's arms, him looking down at her. Vegeta lowered one hand to put her legs on the ground and watched as Bulma ran to her parents, hugging them. This was one of the moments he regretted being so cold and marble. Maybe not in front of everybody, but today when he returned to Kami's Lookout he had to keep on the last string of his principles to keep himself from getting weak. Not that he wanted to cry on her shoulder or something. It was her eyes, her face features he imagined constantly and missed the worst. He wanted to be left with her in some remote corner of the Lookout so he could put his hands on her shoulders and just gaze at her watery blue eyes, feel her skin to make sure this is really happening, and then pull her to him to experience the warmth of her body he craved for.

 

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It were these trifles that made Bulma feel content for the moment. Her whole family sitting at one supper table altogether, she and her parents packed on one side and Vegeta with Trunks on another minding their appetite and space needed to store the respective amount of food to satisfy it. On the wall behind the table there was a sizeable collection of family photos: portraits, photo of her parents' wedding, Bulma ant toddler Trunks - full recollection of the life in Briefs household. The strange thing is that there isn't any photo of baby Trunks and Vegeta, not one! Even the family photo when Trunks was four years old is empty of his father. Well, that man had some serious problems with his perception of parenthood.

 

Bulma was the first to finish her meal. She kissed Trunks goodnight, touched Vegeta's shoulder when passing by and headed to the shower. God, almost a week in the same dress, how unhygienic! And no matter that her body ached for nothing else but full-rate sleep, she couldn't let herself to submerge in fresh sheets all sweaty.

 

And only when she changed into silk nightwear and layed on the cold sheets of the bed finally the meaning of the moment sank in. She rested on the stomach, hugging the pillow, her head turned to the right - empty Vegeta's side of the bed. Her muscles ached as well as her mind from all the stress she had been through. She has never thought she would ever appreciate that ordinary silence of the night she could witness at the moment, when there are no villains to terrorise the Earth and, most importantly, when she knew that her beloved husband - Bulma smiled contently - would sleep at her side in no time. But that very same husband of hers was the one who developed a disgusting feeling in her stomach, the one she was used to experiencing in the early years of their relationship. Of course now the situation was different - she didn't dare to doubt his feelings for her, only if these feelings were strong enough to prevent another catastrophe from happening. She didn't know what was worse - not knowing if the man she gave her life for felt anything for her or knowing that he dreaded what he felt. She could tell from the look in his eyes, from the way he touched and held her today that their relationship was not an obligation or lack of options. But the question that didn't give her peace was if he has shaken down with that feeling for good.

 

Emotional rollercoaster has brought water to Bulma's eyes. She sobbed quietly to herself clenching the pillow, letting tears run down her face freely as there was no one to witness it. When she lost the count of time, half conscious and half asleep she could hear the bedroom door opening. A short pause as Vegeta closed the door behind him and stopped to look at her for a moment. She could almost hear steps being muffled by the carpet as he was taking his way towards the bathroom and turning on the water.

 

A certain amount of time had passed when water was turned off and Bulma could once again hear another being in the room. His only presence sent shivers down and ignited a warmness in her belly. Despite the constant uncertainties about their relationship, fights and his unpredictable character when you can never know for sure if he's there to shout or to give a little loving. She felt safe and calm whenever he was around and this time wasn't an exception. Bulma felt the matress shift from the weight applied. The left side of the bed - her side. Then a sigh in the dark… And a still wet naked body, warm skin being pressed all along her back, hot breath caressing her ear and neck. Vegeta reached a finger to stroke her face and felt a wetness here. Bulma sobbed. But that wasn't a sorrowful sob - she enfolded his large hand with her small one and kissed it, stroked it with her cheek, trying with all her might not to burst in unrestrained tears. She could feel his other hand gracing her body up from the tigh to her rear, lifting her nightrobe up as he did so. Vegeta shut his eyes tightly, trying to bask into the feeling as she kissed and licked his fingertips sensuously. He has touched and experienced her the infinity of times, but tonight, right there on this bed he felt such tense and almost unbearable aura for the first time. Everything what was felt but not expressed between the two floated in the air. Vegeta's hand made its way to her stomach and further down. Bulma panted and bent her rear into him, feeling him shift and press his weight onto her. She could feel the flames of his hair tickling her neck as he traced a wet path of humid kisses down her spine, all the time barely touching her sensitive side with his fingertips, awakening extreme sensations in his mate's body. It was not physical touch itself that made her feel that. It was the way he touched her - his closed eyes or serious concentrated gaze, the gentleness of his touch that was almost unbearable to stand, it was everything he was trying to say with his actions, tenderness one could never imagine this cold and harsh man had in himself at all. Bulma was shuddering, no, she was trembling under the touch of that man she had chosen many years ago. Vegeta's one hand agonisingly slowly slided to her round rump and squeezed it gently. He put his forehead on the sweaty curve of her neck, panting, kissing her skin when she moaned. It felt like electricity shot through Bulma's body when she felt his fingers intruding her most private area, spreading the flesh there, rubbing her swollen clit and extremely slowly, teasingly struggling through to her insides. This and the feeling of his stiff manhood touching with her backside made her groan into the pillow, she arched her body to encourage him obliviously. Vegeta imitated thrust unconsciously, his body had the will of its own and he was loosing control of it rapidly, pumping his fingers inside her and pushing her luscious body even closer to his from underneath. His mate, trembling beneath him, recent tears long forgotten, reached out her hand behind her to clasp his neck for support and as she pulled him coarsely to kiss, Vegeta impaled his shaft into her from behind, leaving her open mouthed, desperately catching a breath. He could see pure ecstasy, Elysium in her unseeing wide eyes. He shut his tightly, indulging in the forgotten feeling of being inside her. He has always loved that slick hotness of woman's body…

 

Vegeta held her rump in place with one hand and removed the hair from her sweaty and glutinous shoulder with the other, kissing the path of his hand. He wanted to witness her ecstatic expression as he penetrated her deeper, wanted to keep his ear close to hear her heavy breathing and restrained moans. And there was something else he wanted to do.

 

“Woman.” He groaned in her ear as he withdrew. “The fusion…” he breathed, nestling his chin on her collarbone. “I did it because of you.” He landed a wet kiss somewhere on her cheek and pushed in her once more, earning a choked cry from his woman. “…did it for you.” He penetrated her firmly, pushing her on his manhood to attain the deepest penetration possible, wanting to revel in every sensation her body had to offer. Bulma was choking, every sound was like a mist to her but she heared his last words being whispered right into her ear. It took her time to really get the meaning of it but when she did, him still pushing into her over and over again, his cheek caressing hers, lips sketchilly meeting in a passion filled kisses, both of them burning and sticky, an erotic sound of two bodies slapping into each other filling the room, for the first time this woman felt a sheer devotion coming from the proud and marble Saiyan prince. And at that very moment she knew that he was determined to be with her for the lifetime and never to deceive her again.

 

Vegeta withdrew and turned her on the back, spreading her legs and entering her once again, lifting her bottom to cause all the more pleasure to her. One of his hands found their way to her breast, travelling always so gently, barely touching the skin. He sucked on her neck, entering her in short quick thrusts, his butt muscles contracting rapidly as he did so, then moved up to her face, slowing the pace so he could peer into her passion filled orbs only to see the glistening wetness. He stopped. Took her face in both hands. Licked off the tears and kissed her with everything he managed to muster. And that kiss wasn't the one provoked by uncontrolled lust. This one conveyed feelings that were stronger than animalistic passion. Their lips touched as gently as possible for two trembling people in the middle of the act. Bulma's hands gripped Vegeta's ass to make him continue his actions and roved through his back, through every muscle on it to embrace his neck and push his head closer. The Saiyan retreated and kept his dark gaze on her when he positioned and invaded her body once again, this time eager for release he couldn't delay anymore. Only after seeing her trance of orgasm he let himself relax and experience one of his own, grinding her body to his as he came, rocking in the aftermath. Feeling that had no equivalent, feeling he couldn't get enough of once tasted. But this wasn't about sex. This never was just about sex. Maybe in the yearly years of their lust-grounded relationship, but now sex was the best conveyance of feelings, something holding hands or kissing couldn't do. Giving each other all they've got, letting to experience what not any other person has ever.

 

Vegeta layed himself on his back and covered his eyes with the back of the hand when Bulma went to open the balcony door to let some fresh air into the room. She turned back to the bed to look at a half-covered form of her husband, his body glistening in the light of the moon. Dawn was breaking.