Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ FROM BAD TO WORSE... ❯ The Reward For Honesty ( Chapter 15 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

Last Chapter: Dr. Briefs has finally made his peace with his daughter's
relationship with the Saiyan. After a debilitating fever, Vegeta finally shakes
the effects of the V'Nhar and begins to regard Bulma with promising endearment.
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FROM BAD TO WORSE...
Chapter Fifteen


For the next several days the pair went through the motions of friendship
without any of the trappings that might be construed as something more personal.
Conversations were brief and succinct and the subject matter deliberately vague.
Bulma coped with Vegeta's moodiness without quarrel, perhaps sensing something
that still was not quite right with the Saiyan. Aside from several thousand
push-ups after breakfast he showed no interest in resuming his usual self-
destructive training regimen. That alone spoke volumes to the younger woman who
was becoming quite adept at reading his terse features and body language for
clues as to what he was thinking. Each day he spent the majority of his time
just sitting out on the balcony railing watching the never-ending pace of the
Capital. She made up excuses to go out and visit him just to catch a glimpse of
his eyes. The rest of his system was rebounding quickly and that healthy flush
of color to his dark skin had finally returned but it was his eyes that troubled
her now. Whenever he glanced at her she could only see sorrow in those black
depths and very little else.

This time, she came out onto the balcony carrying a glass of lemonade for
him even though he hadn't asked for it. He recognized the ruse as much as she
did but he didn't bother to discourage it. The part of him that was royalty
always appreciated being waited on and he extended his hand for the drink even
before she offered it.

"You're welcome," she said crisply as he drained the glass and handed it
back without a word.

He arched a heavy brow at the sarcasm and then looked away and resumed his
vigil over the city. Her heart always rose to her throat at the precarious way
he sat on the railing with one leg hanging over the far side and his arms
crossed as he rested his back against the wall of the building. Damned if he
didn't comfortable in that position but it made her dizzy to look at him.

She sat down at the settee and studied him for a short time before
attempting, "I imagine now that things are returning to normal you'll go back to
your training."

"Fuck my training."

Bulma almost fell out of her chair. "What?"

He swung his head around to glare at her. "You heard me."

"Vegeta, training is your entire life!"

"Where has it gotten me?" he asked her. His voice was level, deceptively
calm; it was apparent in his manner that he had spent the majority of his time
out here thinking of precisely what he was now telling her. "It's responsible
for my height, for my disposition and for my failure. It hasn't helped me; it's
just the exact opposite." He looked away and said in a softer voice, "I need to
rethink my strategy on this."

"Is there anything that I can do?" she asked sincerely but she knew what
the answer would be, 'Just leave me the hell alone' he would bark at her and the
two would retreat to opposite sides of the suite until the next terse exchange.

This time, however, he lowered his head and looked at her out of the
corner of his eye. He opened his mouth to say something and closed it again,
swallowing with difficulty. He ended up shaking his head to her question and
went back to watching the city in silence.

The moment of civility between them was over. Recognizing the hint, Bulma
left the suite to go shopping as she did most of the days when she wasn't on her
laptop. It got her mind off of the events of the last few weeks and she was glad
that the worst appeared to be over. Now there was just the task of restoring
Vegeta's battered self-esteem and she was uncertain of the way to go about that.
Whenever Yamcha had an attack of conscience, finding a diversion was usually an
easy way to aid in repairing it. Vegeta was many things, but he was also a
virile male. She figured she knew of a way to get his mind off of his brooding.

That evening after supper, Bulma left the room and returned shortly after
wearing a robe. Vegeta had settled down on the sofa and was watching the news,
the volume turned down so low that she could barely make out what the news
anchor was saying. She threw something in his lap.

Annoyed, he picked it up and discovered it was an article of clothing
similar to his shorts but more revealing. "What's this?" he asked without much
interest.

"Swimming trunks. I reserved the pool just for us for an hour."

He threw them aside. "Forget it."

"If you wear yours, I'll wear mine," she said and pulled open her robe.
The expression on Vegeta's face never wavered but a muscle began to clench and
unclench along his jaw line as he stared at her with obvious interest. Bulma had
deliberately chosen a bikini ensemble that left virtually nothing to the
imagination. The sheer fabric was a dark blue that perfectly contrasted her pale
skin and had a designer cut that was definitely not bought off of the rack. The
bikini top molded to her plump breasts like a second skin and the high cut thong
accentuated her well-rounded hips to perfection. "Well?" she asked as he
continued his inspection for what was turning into a second minute. When she
finally closed the robe he blinked like a man coming out of a spell and she had
to submerge a gratified smile of accomplishment even before he gave her his
answer.

A half-hour later the pair were swimming laps in the deserted pool area.
Bulma was no fool to actually believe that the Saiyan had relented just because
she had asked him to despite the use of her visual blackmail, although it had
certainly helped to speed up the decision making process. There was a
possibility that he felt indebted to her for her care and even a little
grateful, if such emotions were possible for him. She decided to give him the
benefit of the doubt. He was here right now because he wanted to be. It wouldn't
have mattered if she had been nude beneath the robe if he had made his mind up
not to participate. When it came to wills, she ran a distant second. Despite her
satisfaction she didn't allow herself to gloat over the victory; things were a
stalemate between them, at best.

When she had finished her laps she left the pool and began to towel
herself off and rather than take advantage of the solitude, he decided it was
time to leave. She didn't nag him as he easily hoisted himself out of the water,
taking the towel she offered. As she watched him dry off she was amused by the
way his thick hair fluffed back erect after he had toweled out the excess
moisture. He didn't look like himself without that crown of unruly spikes
surrounding his head, adding to his haunting good looks.

He caught her staring at him and the muscles across his chest immediately
tightened with tension. "What're you looking at?" he asked defensively.

"You. You're sexy as hell, do you know that?" she said, her smile widening
when she caught sight of an embarrassed flush cross his face before he self-
consciously looked away. "Not used to receiving compliments, are you tough guy?
Get used to it. You have a fantastic body, a handsome face-"

"-That's enough, woman-"

"-And that voice! I think your voice is the most striking thing about you,
it's like velvet-"

"Enough!" he snapped, on the edge of serious anger.

Bulma was unfazed by the hostility, knowing instinctively that it was just
a bluff to avoid revealing true emotions from her. It had worked before but now
she saw through that façade thanks to their familiarity and no longer felt
threatened by its presence. He was a creature of great passion. She knew of the
anger but caught only a glimpse of the other, it was one she wanted to see more
of. "I don't imagine that your missions allowed for any steady dating, Vegeta.
Did you ever have anyone special that you cared about?"

"No."

"I find that a little hard to believe."

"Believe whatever you want. It's true."

Her eyes softened. "Not even one person? Someone you traveled with,
perhaps?"

"I was always in Nappa and Radditz's shadows where the females were
concerned," he admitted after a long pause. He felt exposed standing in this
large, humid area practically nude and fielding this woman's invasive questions.
"Sometimes they weren't even conscious by the time my turn came."

Bulma's stomach lurched at the brutal confession. "You-you're not talking
about rape-"

"Oh, good gracious, no. On all of those worlds where I've massacred so
many I never once took a woman without her consent. Give me a break," he said
with a sneer.

Cold with shock, she could only stare back at the Saiyan as she reeled
with the coldly spoken words that seemed to hang in the heavy air. "Vegeta..."
was all she could manage to get out.

"Here comes the horror," he commented more to himself as he observed her
reaction. His voice was almost a sigh. "Just who do you think you're dealing
with, huh? Some warm, fuzzy alien you like to watch in those crappy television
movies? You know I'm a killer. Surely you've had suspicions about what else I've
done."

She was backing away from him despite her efforts to regain her composure.
She had initiated this conversation, it was her own curiosity at fault here and
she had to see this through. "I-I just never wanted to consider the thoughts.
They're just too awful."

He snorted. "Welcome to my life for the last twenty years," he said in a
bitter tone. Bulma caught his eyes out of habit and noted that they were distant
and troubled, barely focusing on her at all as he grew lost in grim memories.
"With low-brow Saiyan's like Radditz and Nappa as my role models it's small
wonder I'm this way. But it was a better alternative than to remain a plaything
for Frieza's perverted tastes..."

Bulma looked up at him in horror but he didn't appear to notice. He was
looking at the smooth surface of the pool in the low lighting, his voice almost
hoarse with emotion. "I was only a child and low in power. By the time I was
strong enough to protest...nothing really mattered anymore. Any innocence I
possessed was beaten out of me and replaced by hate. It was easy to lose myself
in it and that's exactly what I did."

Silence fell over the pair as the last of his words echoed briefly in the
deserted area and faded like mist. Bulma came up beside him, her prior distaste
forgotten and she reached for his hand to enfold it in her own. "But you're
different now, Vegeta. What happened on Namek changed you-"

He gave her an irritated shake of his head and continued as if he had
never heard her. "I make no excuses for my past. It's too easy to blame someone
else and I won't fall back on that crutch. I enjoyed the chaos I caused while
working for Frieza. I'll admit that."

Vegeta swung his head around and looked into her pale, anxious face. He
could feel her hands trembling around his own before he pulled it away. "I'm
offering you my honesty. It's the only thing aside from my damnable pride that
I've got left and you need to know who you're dealing with. I was no better then
Frieza and deserved the same fate until Kami took even that away from me with
his hall of mirrors."

Her gaze sharpened at the reference of the Elder Namek. "You went to see
Kami? When?"

Vegeta abruptly snapped his mouth closed, realizing he had betrayed far
too much. He suddenly turned on his heel and headed for the exit. "This water is
making me itch," he grumbled, scratching one shoulder as he left the pool area,
not even bothering to look back and see if she was following. Bulma remained
behind and wandered over to a bench. She sat there for a very long time, staring
at the water and replaying the conversation over and over in her mind. Despite
all of the revelations there was only one that her mind would allow her to dwell
on;

"Kami?" she whispered to herself.

By the time Vegeta made it back to the suite he was practically clawing at
his skin in reaction to the chlorine in the pool water. He jumped into the
shower frantically scrubbing himself with a washcloth to get the remnants of
that stinging chemical off of his skin. He knew this would be the reaction, it
had happened the first (and last) time he had ventured into the Briefs pool. Why
he had relented to the woman's insistence to go for a swim escaped him. The
bathing suit she had worn had been a bonus, to be sure, but it wasn't the only
reason, was it?

He brought his fist against the wall in exasperation knowing he should
have stayed behind in the suite. He'd had a good thing going here and he had
blown it to pieces with his honesty. "Shit!" he hissed. Why had he felt the need
to tell her all of those things? He had ruined everything! "Shit!Shit!Sh-"

"Vegeta?"

He could make out her form through the frosted glass of the shower door.
"When I'm done here, I'll pack up my things and leave," he told her in a low
voice.

On the other side of the door, Bulma gave two astonished blinks and asked
in a stunned voice, "Why?"

The water abruptly turned off and Vegeta slid open the door wide enough to
stare at her in confusion, wondering if there had been a body switch in the pool
area when his back had been turned. "Isn't that what you want?"

"Hell, no! Why would I want that?"

"I saw your disgust when I told you the truth. I repulse you. Why would
you want me to stay?"

Bulma forced herself to calm down as she observed his obvious
bewilderment. As he had confessed to her, he really had very little experience
where relationships were concerned. Her display of disapproval at the pool was
enough for him to pack up and leave rather than bother to deal with it. She
resolved that she wasn't going to let him get off the hook so easily. "You were
completely honest with me, Vegeta. It's certainly more than Yamcha ever was. Do
you honestly believe I would punish you for telling me the truth?"

"Yes," came the expected answer.

"Well, you're wrong," she corrected him. "It's quite the opposite."

He frowned at her. "What do you mean?"

"Are you finished with your shower or have you only just started?" she
asked flashing him a seductive little grin. "I need to rinse off as well, you
know."

Vegeta was still hiding behind the shower door until her flirting began to
dawn on him. The confusion left his face and became one of realization as she
untied the straps to her bikini top and let the fabric fall away from her
breasts. He pushed open the door, exposing his own nudity and he allowed her one
appraising glance before extending his hand out to her. "By all means, woman,"
he told her as his voice dropped to a husky purr. "Join me."

Bathe was really the last thing they did as they fondled one another under
the hot spray. Vegeta relished the feel of her luscious curves under his hands,
spreading soapsuds across her soft mounds and up between her ivory thighs, the
contact lingering until she began to moan in pleasure. He pulled wet strands of
that odd colored hair out of her face so that he could see those dazzling blue
eyes of hers; an eye-color completely alien to his race. He couldn't seem to get
enough of that azure regard, mesmerized by their intensity and beauty and
letting himself be charmed by their bottomless depths.

Her lips, wet and parted, invited his mouth and he accepted the offering
without hesitation as her hands slid restlessly up and down his broad back. Her
eager fingers detected a slight bump above the cleft of his buttocks and she
pressed it experimentally.

Releasing a shout of pain, he pushed her away and gingerly massaged his
back as he glared at her. "What the hell did you do that for?"

"That was your tail stub," she realized. "Let me look at it."

"I'm not your personal freak show-"

"Please," she insisted. He could not hold his eyes up to her imploring
gaze and relented, watching her warily. Bulma could plainly see the large
puckered scar at the base of his spine. To any other observer, it looked like a
bullet wound but she knew that was where Yajirobi had severed his tail. It was
an ugly mark on his proud flesh, the scar tissue still pink, a butchered
reminder of his first visit to Earth. When she reached out to touch it he shied
away from her.

"It still hurts?" she asked in surprise.

"It'll always hurt," he snapped, visibly forcing himself to calm down.
"There are nerves exposed that will never heal. A Saiyan's tail is the most
sensitive part of our body. Even with it gone, that spot is still very tender."

Bulma remembered that even the tiniest amount of pressure on Gokou's tail
when he was a youngster could bring him to his knees. The same had been true for
his older brother, Radditz who had been an adult when he arrived on Earth years
later. Being of royal blood Vegeta hadn't suffered that vulnerability but his
reaction to her innocuous touch made it clear that the wound still pained him
more than he had ever previously let on.

"Isn't there anything that can be done?" she asked in a small voice,
bothered by the thought of him coping in silence with such discomfort.

"I'll have to get used to it," he told her, bewildered by her concern over
his personal welfare. First the V'Nhar and now this, was there anything that
didn't cause the woman to start fretting? He was content to just drop the issue
and get back to the mutual fondling. "It's okay-"

"No, it's NOT okay! It's terrible!" she snapped at him. "It's just more
pain for you to have to deal with, Vegeta and you've endured enough in your life
already. We're the same age and here you are traumatized and mutilated by what
you've been through while I've lived the life of the spoiled little rich bitch.
It's just not fair!"

He opened his mouth, considered what he could possibly say and came up
empty. She wasn't making any sense but he was trapped in this small space
because she was standing between him and the sliding door and he was forced to
wait her out. He decided that now was as good a time as any to ask her something
that had been nagging at him ever since she had began to show an interest in him
back at Capsule Corp. "Why me?"

She was standing in the shower spray with her arms crossed beneath her
breasts and she glanced at him, distracted from her thoughts. "What do you
mean?"

"That idiot boyfriend of your was resurrected as well as I was. The both
of you obviously have a history together. He wouldn't have caused so much
trouble if he didn't still-" he cleared his throat, "-care for you. It's become
painfully clear that your parents approved of him too. Why are you here with me
and not with him?"

"Yamcha is no longer my type."

"And egotistical, mass-murdering, psychopathic rapists now are?" he asked
with little humor.

"Knock it off. You're much more than that."

"That a fact," he quipped, visibly unconvinced.

Bulma didn't know where all of this self-loathing was coming from.
Perhaps, in the background it had always been there only now it was becoming
visible because of their close proximity to one another. She didn't know why
that was but it wounded her that he appeared to believe the words. "I just felt
your touch. You can be extremely gentle when you want to be."

"I just want to get laid," he said roughly.

She observed him for a moment and finally smiled. "Whether you believe it
or not, there's a gentle side to you, one that hasn't been completely beaten
out. That's what's attracted me to you, Vegeta."

"You're an idiot." He shut off the water and made it past her out of the
shower. He grabbed a towel and made a quick attempt at drying himself off before
retreating into the bedroom to get dressed.

"Why don't you deserve anyone to care for you, Vegeta?" she asked him as
she wrapped a towel around herself. "No one should have to remain alone. Why are
you trying so hard to push me away?"

"I have enough on my plate without having to worry about some weak human
female," he growled at her as he buttoned his shirt. Or tried to. He tore two
buttons from the fabric before throwing the garment to the floor in disgust.

"I can take care of myself," she assured him in a level voice. "I've been
doing it for years."

"Well, whoopee-fucking-do."

"Dammit! We have a good thing going on here. Why are you running away?!"

"Because everyone around me dies!" he shouted at her in frustration. "If
it's not by my own hand then it's in battle or at the whim of some madman. I
can't handle the thought of you-" His voice broke and he turned away and brought
his fist down on the dresser in exasperation. In a softer voice, he told her, "I
can't bear the burden of responsibilities as it is. Go back to that fool human
of yours. You'll be better off."

"Yamcha and I are through," she assured him in a firm voice. She attempted
to reach out to him and watched as he drew distrustfully away. "You're the man
I've chosen to love. You'll just have to learn to accept that."

He was shaking his head. "How can I accept something I can't even
understand? You're speaking about human concepts. I'm-not-human!"

"You have no planet, no family, no friends," Bulma soothed in a gentle
tone. "You are alone on earth with someone who loves you. You've been given a
second chance, Vegeta, let me help you adjust. Stay with me."

"I've been nothing but a burden ever since I showed up," he said in a
halting voice. He looked at his reflection in the dresser mirror and half-
expected to see his image warp and change into a dark memory of the past. Or a
blond harbinger of the future. Tearing his eyes away took some effort but he
managed. "I can't repay you for any of this."

"Yes, you can," she said. "All I want from you is one very small thing."

"...What's that?"

"Love me."

"I can't tell you that, Bulma."

"You don't have to ever say it as long as you can show me that you do."
She let the towel around her body fall to the floor and pressed her nude body
against his. As ever, he became lost in the intensity of her blue eyes and his
resolve buckled under the power of her regard.

"All right," he murmured and when they kissed she could taste his unshed
tears of surrender. She should have been pleased that he had chosen to remain
with her but Bulma felt no pride over this simple victory. There was something
still troubling him, some knowledge that he didn't want to accept. She never
thought she'd ever see the day when she would miss his self-assured arrogance
but the day had come and gone and he still wasn't himself. She did the only
thing that she could possibly do; offer him her love on an unconditional level
and hope to find some way to bring him out of his depression.

As they kissed, they moved towards the bed and Bulma settled down upon it,
eagerly watching as he undressed. When he shed his last garment, he turned to
observe her reaction, his erection jutting threateningly from its base, and his
testicles swollen with desire for the alluring creature who watched his approach
with breathless desire.

Bulma reached for his waist and drew him close to her, her cool lips
planting a wet kiss on his muscled stomach. He flinched in surprise as her other
hand slid up between his thighs and paused teasingly at the sensitive spheres
before gently gripping his strutted prong. "Do you have any idea how long I've
been dreaming about this?" she said in a silky purr, blowing warm air across the
sensitive head as her fingers squeezed and rubbed the hard shaft.

"I'd ask but I'm not in the mood to talk right now," he told her,
disengaging her hand and forcing her back against the bed. He suckled briefly at
the cherry-tipped perfection of her firm breasts while his skilled fingers
slipped greedily into the delicate furrow of her slick vaginal entrance,
expertly playing in the moist folds. When he concentrated on the swollen nub of
her clitoris, her hips jerked in helpless reaction. He continued his expert
ministrations until she moaned her readiness and he poised above her, ready to
enter her with one deft motion of his hips.

Vegeta suddenly hesitated as he stared down at her, his brow furrowing in
concern.

"Wha-What's wrong?" Bulma asked breathlessly.

"What about that device?"

"Vegeta, what-"

"That foul tasting thing! Don't we need that?"

She dropped her head back hardly able to believe that he could be actually
searching for something to worry about at a time like this when she could barely
remember her own name. "I wish I'd never brought out that damned condom," she
groaned.

"Well?!" he asked impatiently. He would not complete the act of lovemaking
without an answer from her one way or the other. She had to admire that degree
of self-control even if she was resentful of being held hostage for an answer.
All she wanted at that precise moment was his impressive shaft of male flesh to
ease the desire between her open and waiting thighs.

She reached up and touched his face. His features were fine-boned and
exotic beneath his dark skin and extremely handsome. He had the most intense
eyes she had ever seen and, all at once, she was reminded of the deep brown eyes
of that sad, little girl in the park. A child born from a bitter and loveless
union and whose mother was too ignorant to understand what a beautiful, rare
treasure the child truly was. Bulma would never understand the reasoning of her
decision or the suddenness in which she made it. She only smiled up at him and
pulled his face in close for a deep kiss. "Don't worry about it," she whispered
into his ear.

He didn't press her on the issue, figuring that she knew more about the
puzzling concept then he ever would. He burrowed his face into the hollow of her
neck, inhaling her intoxicating, womanly scent and slowly entered her until he
was buried to the hilt, listening to her whimpers of pleasure at the completed
union.

Fastening his mouth over her moist lips, her tongue slithered about inside
his mouth, yielding to his suction and straining forward until it seemed he
could almost swallow the delicious muscle. Her saliva blended with his, becoming
an aphrodisiac that erased the last vestige of restraint from both of them. Her
fingers kneaded the corded muscles of his flawless back as he began to move
inside of her with long, powerful strokes.

They had hardly begun, it seemed to him, when Bulma cried out, wrenching
her lips from his as her body contorted in the throes of a powerful climax. He
stared at her flushed features in amazement as he pistoned in and out of that
exploding flesh, his erection frictioning the nerves that were already dancing
in ecstatic orgasm, savoring the masculine power that could produce such obvious
pleasure.

Listening to her quick gasps of ecstasy, Vegeta forced himself to work
slowly, something he had always considered senseless. In the past he'd had only
one goal in mind and had satisfied himself without any regard for his partner's
participatory pleasure. Now, suddenly and dramatically, his attitude was
reversed and he was intent to please this lovely creature whose deliciously
tight heat undulated about his thrusting shaft.

Bulma ran her fingers along his perspiring shoulders as her eyes roved
over his face, tracing the contours of his brow and cheeks and staring into his
half-closed eyes. "Ohmigod," she panted, tracing the curve of his jaw with
gentle fingertips. "If I'd known what you were like in bed I would have jumped
into the shower with you on that day you crashed into the compound."

"Instead, you gave me that gay pink shirt," he commented and actually
chuckled over the memory. The vibration jerking his tool and causing her to
shiver in pleasure at the unexpected caress of her overly sensitive flesh. Her
internal muscles squeezed him lovingly, causing him to speed up his pace.

She almost laughed at the memory of when he stepped out of the bathroom
that day wearing the infamous 'Badman' shirt and the lime green pants. To his
credit he had worn the clothes in public but only because she had been the one
who had given them to him. "Vegeta, you are many things but gay is definitely
NOT one of them."

"Bet on it," he assured her, his voice hoarse with lust. He kissed her, a
long and industrious fusing of lips and tongues, their teeth scraping lightly as
they sought an even closer contact. Her full breasts rolled and quivered between
them, the sensitive nipples stabbing his broad, hairless chest.

His powerful arms clasped her undulating waist with a force that made her
gasp. Her own belly was throbbing with the approach of another climax and he was
unable to ignore the hot mauling of his spear. He sped up his pace, entering her
with frantic hunches that jolted her writhing hips. He tried to delay his own
orgasm but the shivering caress of her spasming vagina was just too much.

With a choked cry, he gripped her writhing buttocks with both hands, his
body jerking with the onslaught of a savage come that was almost painful in its
intensity as his spurting tool met an answering explosion in her velvet sheath.
He was barely aware of Bulma's teeth, biting almost painfully into his lower lip
and her nasal whimper, almost a half-sob as her body quivered with the last
tremors of pleasure from their mutual release. She let her mouth fall away as
she went limp beneath him, blinking up into his face in disbelief.

"My god!" she exclaimed, her voice breaking in exhaustion and
satisfaction. "That was incredible!"

He rolled off of her and stared at her flushed and sweat-streaked features
with an odd expression on his face that seemed to resemble discouragement.
"Vegeta? What's wrong?"

He wiped his forehead with the back of his arm. "That should only have
been Saiyan foreplay," he rasped out. Letting his head fall back on the pillow,
he visibly tried to rein his ragged breathing under control. "Give me a minute
and we can do it again-"

"You're still recovering, don't overdo it," she told him, trying to keep
the amusement out of her voice. He was gearing up for an argument and she
deliberately covered his mouth with her own until he calmed down. "You don't
have anything to prove," she said when the kiss ended. "We'll be in this suite
for awhile. There'll be plenty of time for you to show off your stamina. Right
now, I just want you to conserve your strength." She knew that she would always
be able to wear him down with a verbal assault and this time was no different.
He laced his fingers behind his head and closed his eyes with a wry snort, his
body language denoting more of a sulk than surrender but the end result was the
same.

Managing to keep her laughter in check Bulma reclaimed the disturbed sheet
and blankets and pulled them up over themselves. Slowly moving up beside him she
laid her head in the crook of his arm below his shoulder, pleased when he didn't
try to draw away from the closeness and laid one hand on his flat stomach. She
wasn't sure if he had already fallen asleep and whispered, "Vegeta?"

"What?" he asked.

"Thank you," she said sincerely.

He frowned in confusion. "For what?"

"For being so gentle."

He raised his head and examined her relaxed features for a moment as he
interpreted what she was really trying to say without hurting his feelings or
making him angry. For some reason he was bothered that she felt she had to be so
careful with her words around him because of his unstable temper. His body
relaxed against hers and he lowered his left arm to cradle her soft form. "I
know that I speak without thinking," he confessed to her in a voice so low that
she had to strain her hearing to make out the words. She held her breath so she
would not miss one single syllable. "To be honest, I doubt that will ever
change. But you'll never be hurt by my hand, Bulma. I can assure you of that at
least."

Smiling, she tightened her arm around his waist and settled into his
warmth. Bulma figured he had finally succumbed to sleep before he grumbled out;
"After all, I have to save the beatings for Kakarrot."

She burst into giggles at that and when the laughter passed Bulma found
that sleep was more difficult then she would have imagined. Her mind seemed
unwilling to accept the very real fact of his close presence and what they had
just shared. Surely they were a couple now, bonded by a union that was almost
older than time but doubts continued to plague at her. Tightening her embrace
around his slender waist, she could feel the low vibration of his odd snoring
against her cheek. He was here. Vegeta was here. With her. It was all she had
ever wanted.

She was unaware of precisely when she finally succumbed to her weariness
but it was early morning when she stirred awake again and realized that she was
alone in the queen sized bed. She almost moaned out loud at the heart-breaking
discovery. 'He's left', she thought to herself in profound sorrow. 'I suppose I
shouldn't be surprised but...I wished he'd at least said good-bye before he
went.'

Choking back a sob, it gradually dawned on her that she could hear the low
mutter of the television in the living room. Sitting up in the bed she saw the
Saiyan's clothes still on the dresser and lying over the backrest of the chair.
Pulling on a robe she went to investigate and found him asleep in front of the
TV. He was sitting up with his arms crossed in that characteristic stance, his
chin resting against his chest. Bulma began reaching out to him and quickly
pulled her hand back before she disturbed him. As impossible as it seemed, he
actually appeared comfortable in that odd position.

She decided to leave him as he was, just relieved that her earlier rush of
panic had been for naught. Returning to bed, she settled beneath the covers and
chuckled in the early light of the morning at what a strange sight they must
make together. The Heiress and the Alien Prince. She allowed herself to drift
off, still smiling in contentment as she yielded to her dreams. For once they
were light and unbothered, reflecting her happiness at this very special and
rare union as she dreamt of the man that she loved.


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NEXT CHAPTER TO BE POSTED SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 17, 2001. If you would like to be
on the mailing list to receive notification of when new chapters of this story
are posted, please e-mail your request to: darke_angelus@hotmail.com
--------------------------------------------- -----------------------------------
Chapter Sixteen: Bulma and Vegeta continue to dance around the issue of a
relationship until he finally tells her of the revelations at Kami's Lookout.