Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ FROM BAD TO WORSE... ❯ Intimate Confessions ( Chapter 16 )

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

Last Chapter: A recovering Vegeta bared his dark soul to Bulma who accepted his
words and his presence. The two finally shared a night of tender intimacy...
----------------------------------------------------------- ---------------------
FROM BAD TO WORSE...
Chapter Sixteen


"Good morning, lover."

Vegeta jumped about a foot off of the sofa when arms encircled his neck
and something moist fastened briefly on his right cheek. Fortunately the
presence quickly retreated or he might have attacked in an instinctive manner
with disastrous results. Blinking sleep from his eyes, he glowered at the woman
leaning over the backrest of the sofa, smiling at him.

"How did you sleep?" Bulma said pleasantly.

Staring at her for a moment longer he looked over at the clock on the VCR
and released a surprised grunt. His slanted eyes widened slightly when he saw
that it was almost eight-thirty.

"Now that you're awake I'll call for breakfast. Despite how you were
sitting, you looked so comfortable I didn't have the heart to wake you."

"Sleeping sitting up is a habit from the space pods," he told her as he
got slowly to his feet.

"It can't be comfortable," she remarked, watching as he briefly massaged
the small of his back trying not to be too obvious about it.

"I've dealt with worse," he grumbled. "I'm going to take a shower."

"Want any company?" she asked in a teasing voice, briefly pulling open her
robe and flashing him a glimpse of her nude body.

He didn't even pass her a glance. "No," he said and left the room without
another word listening to Bulma sputter in rage and embarrassment behind him.

Breakfast was a silent and awkward affair and midway through the meal,
Vegeta piled a plate full of sausages, bacon and donuts and retreated to his
usual perch outside on the balcony. Trying to cope with her own conflicted
emotions, Bulma got washed and dressed and made another attempt at conversation
with the Saiyan before she left the suite.

Standing for a few moments near him, she attempted, "I'm going shopping.
Is there anything you need?"

He took a bite out of a donut and shook his head. When it became apparent
that he had fallen into one of his non-verbal lapses she crossed the distance
between them and leaned in to kiss him good-bye on the cheek. His hand came up
in a blur to block it and her lips touched his rough knuckles before she stepped
back in shock.

"What's your goddamned problem?!" she yelled at him in frustration. "I
just want to give you an innocent peck on the cheek before I go? What's wrong
with that?"

"Woman, do not presume our coupling last night meant more than what it
was," he told her, fixing her with a warning glare. "You were a passable screw.
Nothing more."

Baring her teeth in rage, she raised a hand to slap him but knew his
reflexes would block the blow as swiftly as her innocuous kiss. "You selfish
prick," she hissed and stalked out of the hotel suite, deliberately slamming the
door after herself.

Barely one hour later she was sitting at a vidphone booth sobbing her eyes
out as she talked with her mother. "Last night he was so considerate, mother.
This morning it was like talking with a stranger! It was awful!"

"Bulma, dear, if we all came with owner manuals hanging around our necks
our lives would be so much simpler. But sooo boring!" the blond commented with
her usual exuberance. "Just be patient. This is all new for him too, remember?
You obviously have his trust or he would have left this morning like you feared.
Let the rest happen naturally."

It was the reassurance that Bulma desperately wanted to hear. In truth,
she would have preferred to converse with Chi Chi who was closer to her own age
but knew that she wouldn't be able to deal with the spiteful brunette's reaction
over her relationship with the moody Saiyan. She wanted support, not criticism
to soothe her own nagging doubts. Unfortunately, her only other female ally was
her own mother. "That's what I'm trying to do but he's such an enigma. Not what
I'm used to dealing with at all," she confessed in a harried way. She closed her
eyes and squeezed out tears as she wailed, "I...I don't know what I should do!"

Mrs. Briefs watched as her only child struggled with her conflicted
emotions. "You got too used to Yamcha always being around when you needed him.
He and I used to have the exact same conversations about you," she said, using a
degree of insight that was rare for her. Bulma caught her breath in mid-sob and
gaped at the older woman who could only smile. "Why the surprise, dear? You and
Vegeta are two sides of the same coin; you're both willful, stubborn, hot-
tempered, argumentative, abusive-"

"You're making me feel sooo much better," Bulma grumbled.

"-And sarcastic," Mrs. Briefs finished, completely unruffled by her
daughter's reaction. Her eyes were usually closed in an eternally cheerful
squint but she actually opened one long enough to offer a playful wink. "You're
both equally matched. Neither of you would dare to be the submissive one in this
arrangement, would you? Of course not! If you want to keep Vegeta around you're
going to have to back down a notch, dear."

"Why me?!" Bulma wailed, making heads turn among the passersby who were
within earshot. "He's in MY hotel suite, eating the food I'M buying and-"

"-And he knows that," the blond cut in. "What has he got but his pride?
You have wealth, friends and family to fall back on for support. He let his
guard down to you last night and I imagine this morning he's as embarrassed as
you are if not more so. How often do you think he's let that happened?"

Bulma stammered more in surprise of her mother's logical assessment of the
situation then her probing question. Vegeta had been so tender and considerate
during their lovemaking, revealing a side that she would never have thought
possible in the malicious Saiyan. This morning he had been back to his usual
cruel self. The contrast in personalities was so complete that a question dawned
inside of her:

Which one was the act?

"...I don't know," she said in partial response to her mother's question
and there was little more that the two could find to work around that impasse.
Leaving the booth, Bulma stood on the sidelines barely noticing as the mall
became increasingly crowded. Not normally fond of large gatherings she chose to
settle into the anonymity that the people offered and let herself move in the
languid pace of the window shopper, freeing her mind to brood over Vegeta.

There was so much that she didn't know about him. Of them all, Gokou
seemed privy to most of the Saiyan's background but she hadn't had much of an
opportunity to talk with him once the fighter had arrived and then left to start
his own training. She knew the basics, of course; He was a Saiyan prince who had
been forced into Frieza's employ with the other survivor's after the tyrant had
destroyed their homeworld. On Namek, no one knew of the catalyst that had caused
Vegeta to rebel so forcefully against the powerful alien. It had been clear
during his confrontation with Zarbon that the feisty Saiyan had not been well
liked. According to Krillin, the Ginyu Force had treated him as a joke and
purposely taunted him.

Bulma couldn't fathom the logic behind such a lack of respect. She clearly
remembered the Saiyans' first arrival on Earth. Nappa had been bad enough but
Vegeta's power displays had left crater scars that had inadvertently become the
top tourist attraction on the entire planet. If the remaining Z Fighters had not
united against him then, Earth would have been reduced to a smoldering cinder.
How could anyone make light of someone as destructive as that?

Her wandering eventually brought her to the children's play area in the
center of the mall and she selected a seat nearby in the food court to watch
kids of all ages as they scampered and played among the diminutive equipment.
She noticed there was one little boy standing on the sidelines watching the
other kids as they tousled but hesitant to join in. His mother was trying to
coax him to go and join them but he was shaking his head.

"I don't know anybody here," the boy muttered and crossed his small arms
in a gesture so familiar that Bulma almost laughed out loud.

"Jason, it's alright. No one's going to make fun of you here-"

"!!NO!!" the boy screamed and wandered a short distance away to sulk.

The young mother noticed Bulma watching them and said apologetically, "I'm
sorry. The other kids tease him because he's small for his age."

"You don't have to explain. He's adorable. I bet he's a handful," Bulma
said, smiling sadly as she observed the youth struggle with pre-pubescent tears.
His face was twisted with embarrassment and resentment as he watched the other
children playing with carefree abandon.

The other woman rolled her eyes dramatically. "Too darn smart for his own
good! But...kids are cruel, y'know?"

"I know." Bulma would have liked to add that adults had a good handle on
the cruelty department too but she didn't bother. The mother offered her a brief
nod and picked up her shopping bags in preparation to leave. The boy trailed
along behind her, his small shoulders bunched up to his ears with self-conscious
tension he shouldn't have to deal with for many more years. Again, Bulma felt
that maternal flutter in her lower belly as she watched the pair exit the mall.
She wanted to scoop that sad child up and tell him a story about how anger and
hatred could eventually consume him but she knew he wouldn't understand the
warning. In the background she could hear that enigmatic tick of her biological
clock that appeared to increase in volume whenever she thought of Vegeta. For no
clear reason, she went back to watching the playing children with a wistful
smile on her face.

>>>>>
Vegeta was sitting on the sofa frowning thoughtfully at the mess spread
out on the coffee table before him when he heard the key-card being passed
through the lock on the front door. "Oh shit," he grumbled to himself and
automatically squared his shoulders for the screaming to come as Bulma walked
through the threshold, her arms laden with shopping bags. She took one look at
the scene in the living room and promptly dropped them on the floor. "What the
hell do you think you're doing?!" she shrieked.

Her laptop had been completely gutted and the parts were unceremoniously
scattered across the entire table surface in an unrecognizable assortment of
screws, cables and components. Vegeta appeared to be in the process of putting
it back together again until her voice hit that certain pitch and he fumbled
with the motherboard and dropped it with a curse.

"VEGETA!?!"

"I wanted to see how it worked," he said in a lame attempt of defense. His
cheeks were absolutely crimson and he could barely make eye contact. "If you
didn't want me touching it, you should have taken it with you."

"Are you trying to say that this is MY fault?!" she snapped, picking up
the empty casing that had once housed the keyboard. The computer had been a lab
prototype with an immense ten-terabyte memory database that housed a satellite
hook-up and a complex encryption program that hadn't been copied yet. From the
look of things, Vegeta had managed to completely dissemble the system with
nothing more than a pair of her toenail clippers. "You totally demolished it!"

He shrugged, practically daring her to go ballistic and she pinched the
bridge of her nose in a desperate effort to avoid doing just that. As if her
mother was standing beside her, she could hear the blond say in her left ear;
'If you want to keep Vegeta around you're going to have to back down a notch,
dear.'

She took a deep breath and sat down beside him. "Can you put it back
together?" she asked in a softer voice.

"I was just starting when you came in screeching like a harpy."

Her lips twitched for a moment before she began rummaging in her purse for
her tools. "We're going to do this together."

It turned out to be an insightful lesson for the both of them as they
focused their attention and conversation only on the process of rebuilding the
system, sitting shoulder to shoulder together on the sofa. It was a timely
diversion as they both unanimously dropped the issue of the night before and
focused on the task at hand. For the next three hours, Bulma explained the
design and function of every part not matter how minor and let the Saiyan
continue the task of fixing what he had done under her careful eye. He listened
to her intently, betraying that curiosity of technology that had enabled him to
memorize so many components aboard Frieza's ship and only grew frustrated when
his fingers weren't as nimble as required for reattaching the finer parts. At
this point, Bulma took over the task, being careful not to gloat at her skill
and well aware of how closely he watched her, his face betraying a variety of
emotions, chief among them a degree of awe. When they were finished, she held
her breath after she inserted the battery and switched it on. Looking over her
shoulder, Vegeta's face tightened with tension, knowing full well the reaction
if the damned thing didn't work. He'd never hear the end of it.

The LCD screen immediately blinked on and the system performed a brief
internal diagnostic before informing them that all things were fine and dandy.
Thank you. Completely oblivious of its earlier dismemberment. Bulma cheerfully
punched the Saiyan's shoulder. "You just got lucky."

Vegeta released a dry sniff and sat back, crossing his arms as he declared
aloofly, "There was no doubt it would work. I could have done it all myself."

"Ri-i-ight," Bulma said, straight-faced. "I think this calls for a reason
to celebrate, don't you?"

"Whatever," he mumbled beside her. He knew that she was just humoring him
but was at a loss as to how to respond to it, he was just relieved that the
crisis was over and no harm appeared to be done, particularly to the fragile
laptop. In truth, he had been randomly typing on the keyboard and had tapped one
of the keys too forcefully making it stick. He had taken the system apart in an
effort to fix it before she had returned. So much for that idea...

She walked over to her shopping bags and he watched her struggle with them
before taking them into the bedroom. "What's all that?"

"Mostly clothes, some shoes. Want me to model them for you?"

He'd seen enough of her vests and dresses to last him a lifetime. "I'll
pass."

Bulma disappeared into the bedroom and he figured that he had probably
offended her again and submerged a sigh. Never one for taking a hint, he began
idly playing with the laptop again until he heard her come back into the room.
"If you have to show me what you bought, I'll look. I just don't get the-"

"Look at me now, then."

Vegeta cautiously peered over his right shoulder and promptly forgot all
about the stupid computer as he looked at her in surprise.

Standing at the foot of the sofa, Bulma stood in a transparent black lace
negligee that left absolutely nothing to the imagination. She tugged playfully
at the fabric that clung to her body and commented, "I bought this on impulse
but I wasn't sure if you'd like it. It is rather revealing, don't you think?"

She stepped around beside him and lifted one slender leg to press her foot
against the backrest of the sofa as she adjusted a fastener to the sheer
stockings she had pulled on. Directly across from him, Vegeta could see that
inviting moist slit plainly visible in the crotchless lace panties she wore.

"I think-" he coughed, his voice catching at the sight of her beckoning
muff. "-That I could get used to it."

"Really?" she asked innocently. She pulled her leg back and rubbed her
hands along her body teasingly. Vegeta was unable to tear his eyes away from the
sight of her breasts jutting out proudly from beneath the transparent fabric,
their pink nipples stiff and inviting. She walked a short distance away from
him, almost dancing as she tested the limits of the garment. "It's really quite
restrictive. Not very comfortable at all..." She turned her back to him and bent
over, touching her feet with impressive flexibility before straightening and
returning to the bedroom. Her voice came floating back, "I think I'll take it
back."

"Over my dead body," Vegeta said, rising from the sofa with a grimace. He
had an erection so hard it was almost painful.

Bulma was laughing when he caught up to her, pleased that her little show
has gotten the desired reaction. "Well, well. Obviously not a bad performance
from just a...how did you put it earlier? Just a 'passable screw'?"

"That might have been a bit presumptuous," he admitted as he stepped
slowly to her. He kept his eyes on hers until he was close, then dropping them
to her magnificent chest. With heavy fingers he tugged at the strings that held
the negligée closed and let it fall around her shoulders. Cupping her breasts in
his warm hands he felt their superb weight and contoured softness, and lowered
his head to softly mouth one pert nipple, his tongue flicking across the
sensitive nub before moving on to the other. He blew cold air over the rosy
aureoles, watching them pucker into sensitive little mounds before bringing his
face back up to hers.

Bulma kissed him wonderingly, marveling at his gentleness, teasing his
lips with her knowing tongue as she moved urgently into his arms. They rebounded
against the wall and he released a grunt of pain at the hard contact.

"Your back?" she asked in alarm.

"Forget about it," he said, shaking it off and nuzzling her neck. Not
swayed by his casual dismissal, she reached around to the small of his back and
had her suspicions confirmed when he grabbed her wrist to prevent the contact.
"Don't," he cautioned. "If I want a massage I'll call room service."

"Vegeta, I don't want to do this if you're in pain."

"It's been bothering me all along. Just because you now know about it
shouldn't change anything."

She pulled away from him. "But it does."

"DAMMIT!"

She watched his anxious frustration, guilty that she had put him into this
state and now was loath to continue the act. A thought suddenly came to her,
"Lie back on the bed."

"I'm not tired," he said through clenched teeth. "I'm HORNY!"

"Trust me, you'll like this."

Grumbling curses under his breath, he did as he was told and lied
awkwardly on the bed, his arms folded stiffly across his chest as he watched her
join him. She straddled his legs and unzipped the fly to his pants, freeing his
straining erection. Fondling the hard warmth with gentle fingers, she kept her
eyes trained on his as she lowered her moist lips to the wide tip.

Surprised, Vegeta raised himself on his elbows to watch more closely. He
felt her soft tongue whisper along the underside of his standing tool, then a
moment later it curled itself demandingly around the glistening helmet. She
nibbled playfully on his erection for long pleasing moments before she smiled
knowingly at him.

"Is that it?" he asked in a gruff tone, clearly unimpressed.

"I'm just getting warmed up," she assured him with a throaty note to her
voice he had never heard her use before.

She tugged his pants down around his knees and then straddled his waist,
lowering her hips and slipping her juicy labial ring over the head of his shaft
and tightening the hot flesh around it. Slowly, with her eyes holding his own in
a possessive stare, she eased that moist heat steadily down until she engulfed
him entirely.

Responding to the overwhelming surge of desire that swept through his
loins, Vegeta bucked his hips upward in an instinctive thrust.

"NO!" Bulma cried, putting her hands flat against his chest and pushing
him down against the bed. "Let me do all of the work. Try to relax."

"Are you completely nuts?! How am I supposed to relax like THIS?!" he
argued, struggling beneath her.

She pulled his hands up to her narrow waist. "Don't move your hips, use
your arms," she soothed, moving her excited flesh in a deliberate slow circling
on his fully embedded shaft. "Try to keep your body as still as possible."

Vegeta growled in annoyance, not sure if he liked this position. His
masculinity felt threatened by the power she was currently holding over him and
he didn't like surrendering control of the act to the weaker sex. He was tempted
to flip her over and take over but his curiosity got the better of him and he
decided to see how things turned out.

Bulma lowered her tight woman-flesh up and down, exercising the powerful
vaginal muscles about his throbbing rod as it slipped through the exquisite
warmth. His fingers tightened around her waist, responding to her efforts and
she felt him finally begin to participate, lifting her hips and sharing the
effort while forcing himself to remain motionless from the waist down.

Relieved by his acceptance she leaned over him, moaning as he suckled at
her swaying breasts until the pleasure of her shivering flesh finally became too
much. With a gasp he threw his head back against the bed, his fingers digging
into her delicate flesh to slam her down on the swollen shaft again and again,
faster and faster. His orgasm was beyond description with its intensity. He
could feel her internal muscles flexing and rippling with her own fevered climax
until he cried out from the force of the sensual assault.

This time the tables were turned as Bulma slid up along side of him,
watching as he stared dazedly up at the ceiling while his breathing began to
slow down. "So...what do you think of that position?" she asked in a teasing
purr.

When he managed to find his voice, he rasped out, "I believe we can add it
to our repertoire."

"I figured as much," she giggled knowingly.

>>>>>
That evening, she ordered the full gambit of pay-per-view movies to their
suite and Vegeta grumbled about the frivolity of such a thing until the pizza
deliveryman she had called earlier showed up with his arms laden in boxes. After
downing his second full-sized deluxe he stopped his protests. Once the meal was
over, he concentrated on mastering her laptop while she was currently held rapt
by a murder mystery. He deliberately kept it arms length, almost sitting it on
his knees and it was only then that she realized the Saiyan was far-sighted.

"I have an old pair of my father's reading glasses in my purse, if you
want them," she teased, watching him out of the corner of her eye as he bent his
head back further, squinting at the screen.

"Don't be ridiculous," he groused. "How can I see what I was looking at
before?"

"Click the back button," she said, biting back the impulse to do it for
him. He resented it when she jumped in to assist and he appeared content to
follow her verbal advice as he plodded along at his own pace. He had little
interest in the movie and only looked up when someone was getting shot or beaten
senseless. There was one scene where the heroine had taken off her top and he
had glanced up once and then resumed his reading, uninterested, even before the
scene was over.

"I thought you were a breast man," she quipped.

"Yours, not hers," he said briefly.

It was funny how Vegeta's compliments always came out sounding like he was
doing her a favor. She leaned against him and rested her head on his shoulder as
she concentrated on the movie. He tolerated the close contact without comment or
complaint and it was then that she understood that he would never be
demonstrative towards her outside of the bedroom. Their relationship was in its
infancy but Bulma instinctively knew that the gruff alien would never kiss or
embrace her in public. She would just have to learn to accept that.

"I talked to my mother this morning. She sends her best."

The issue of her parents was still a sensitive one between them and he
only offered a grumbling sound in the back of his throat in acknowledgement. The
fact that he didn't get angry was encouraging and she decided to test the
waters. "You've mentioned your father in the past but I never hear you bring up
your mother. Why is that?"

"I never knew her. She died during my birth," he told her, his voice
neutral.

Just once, she would have liked to hear some story from the Saiyan's past
that didn't have a tragic outcome. "I'm very sorry, Vegeta. I-I didn't know..."

He heard the pained emotion in her voice and swiveled his head around to
look at her. The grief in her face appeared genuine and he figured she would
appreciate a more thorough explanation. "Saiyan births were a dangerous time for
both dame and whelp. Mortality rates were high and families with more than one
brat were virtually unheard of before the gestation chambers were introduced.
From then on the burden of childbirth was abolished."

"But you said-"

He held up a hand to silence her. "-Except for royalty. The chambers could
be easily sabotaged and I was too valuable as an heir to the throne to be risked
to such a fate. The Elite courtesan carrying me was guarded around the clock."

"She wasn't a Queen?"

"The monarchy was chiefly patriarchal. The female population never
rebounded from the terrific losses associated with prior childbirth's. There
were no women of royal blood who could assume the mantle of queen. Those of the
past never survived their first pregnancy and small wonder."

Bulma was appalled by the frank tone of his explanation. "Your mother-"

"-I ripped myself out of her," he said matter-of-factly. "'Conceived under
darkness, heralded by screams and borne in blood comes the harbinger of our
enemies destruction; Prince Vegeta'. That's what was said of me until Frieza
destroyed our world." He sighed and settled his troubled gaze on the television,
not really seeing the movie, as he became lost in his own thoughts. He was
unaware of the pale-faced woman sitting beside him as he confessed, "I can
understand the drive to produce an heir but I'll never know what it's like.
Now."

Overcoming her shock, Bulma sharpened her gaze on his saddened features.
"What do you mean?"

"What do you think I mean? No Saiyan woman survived Vegetasei's
destruction. My line ends here, with me."

"You can still father children. Gohan-"

"-Half-breed, mongrel abomination," he snarled with surprising ferocity.
"That whelp should have been drowned at birth than insult his heritage with his
polluted blood. You'll NEVER catch me having a mongrel for a child."

Bulma slowly drew away from him, visibly upset with this revelation. "...I
didn't know that you felt so strongly about it. I'm sure glad I'm on the
pill..."

"That makes two of us."

"I suppose, once this Android threat is over you could always go search-"

He was shaking his head. "I've traveled enough of this galaxy to last me a
lifetime. I've made my peace long ago that I'm the last son of the House of
Vegeta."

The mood was getting way too dark and Bulma regretted ever bringing up the
topic that had set the course of this depressing conversation. In a desperate
attempt to lighten things up, she teased, "You're still a young man, Vegeta.
When you're old and grey you'll be tripping all over your grand-children, you'll
see."

His features only tightened at her poor choice of words. He quickly looked
away from her open and trusting face as he coped with his profound sorrow. "I
don't want to talk about this anymore," he said in a wounded voice.

Bulma caught a glimpse of that same haunted expression she had seen the
first time they had eaten out on the balcony and he had confessed to her how
lost he was. "What is it? What's wrong?"

Putting the computer aside, he sat forward and put his face in his hands,
trying to rein in his grief. He finally managed to get out, "No one lives
forever. I keep trying to tell myself that but it just doesn't seem to help."

Alarm shot through her entire body when she heard those choked words. In a
voice that was a near-whisper she pressed, "Are you saying that you're going
to...die?"

"We all die eventually," he muttered, deliberately avoiding looking at her
face. "Some just sooner than others."

"Vegeta, you're not making any sense," she moaned. His misery was
contagious, infecting her through her love for him and reaching the very core of
her being, spreading its dark taint. "Start from the beginning."

He made an attempt to leave and she gathered the fabric of his sleeve and
hauled him back down. "Tell me!"

Flinching at the authoritative snap to her voice, he raised his coal black
eyes to her clear blue ones as he weighed his pitifully few options. The
information he had gained at Kami's Lookout was crushing him with the burden and
he was unable to cope with that knowledge on his own. Beside him was this
willful creature who was begging him to share what had been confided to him.
Bulma had a forceful nature that easily matched his own but more importantly she
had far more experience in matters of the heart and that gave her a strength he
could only envy. It was that strength he so desperately needed this very minute
before he shattered into a thousand unsalvageable pieces.

There was a dry click at the back of his throat when he swallowed. To
surrender the knowledge of what he knew would give her a profound hold over him,
uniting them as confidants and something more than he would ever be willing to
admit. He didn't want to trust her but he was smothering under the suffocating
weight of this dark destiny and had to unburden himself before it was too late
for them both. At long length, he drooped his head in defeat and told her-

Everything.

>>>>>
Following that heartbreaking revelation, the two were inseparable in the
days that followed. His words clung like a shroud to Bulma but there were no
words of comfort that she could offer to the Saiyan that he was willing to
accept. Her father had told her only the basics of what Piccolo had confided to
him and she had been unaware of Vegeta's intention to track down the Dragonablls
and make the wish to be dead again. Kami's intervention had been a timely one
but it had come with a terrible price tag attached;

'Eight years from now. Maybe ten. I'm going to die again anyway, aren't
I?'

It was now a dark prophecy that loomed over both of their heads. As
helpless as she felt, Bulma knew that it was something Vegeta was going to have
to deal with in his own way at his own time. In the meantime, he continued his
brooding out on the balcony, his push-ups and enjoyed their tender sessions of
precious intimacy together, which was quite often. His stamina was increasing by
the day and, at first, Bulma had been more than a little unsettled by her worry
that he would resume his former ferocity as he had that first disastrous time.
If anything, he was intent on proving his word that he would never hurt her and
she couldn't keep track of how many times he pleasured her by touch and taste
before he sought his own release.

It was after one such session that Bulma asked him why he was taking such
care in satiating her to such extremes that went so beyond his usual self-
centered character. She was expecting a halting preamble that danced around the
issue of love or affection and realized she should have known better when he
told her, "I just don't want to be compared to HIM, that's all."

She raised herself on one elbow and peered into his face. "Compared to
who?" When she got no answer, she ventured, "...Yamcha?"

He gave one brisk nod.

Just when Bulma had thought she had the Saiyan's male competitive drive
all figured out he would throw a monkey wrench into the workings and have her
start again from scratch. To Vegeta, everything was a challenge to be the best,
and it was apparent that matters of intimacy were no different. "There's nothing
to compare to. You and Yamcha...you're like Yin and Yang, direct opposites in
all extremes. He's the embodiment of light and goodness and you're-" She slapped
a hand over her mouth.

"-Darkness," he finished for her. "I'm evil."

"I-I didn't mean for it to come out that way, Vegeta. I'm sorry-"

"Why? It's what I am." His face broke out into a cold grin that chilled
her and gave her an excited shiver down her back at the same time. "If you
didn't like it, you wouldn't be here with me."

Damned if he didn't appear unfazed by the comparison. She looked at his
calm demeanor and figured from his warped point of view she had just paid him a
compliment. She didn't see it that way and hastily changed the subject, "Yamcha
was a...passive lover. He was sweet and kind and-"

"-Boring," Vegeta interrupted, there was a disgusted sneer on his face.

"I was going to say affectionate."

"Shit. It sounds like you're describing a damned dog."

"Do you want to hear this or not? You started it," she said in a hard
voice.

Vegeta rolled his eyes back to the ceiling and went quiet. Taking a deep
breath she continued, "He was all of those things and we grew up together,
learning each others likes and dislikes. A lot of it was by trial and error and
believe me, there were a lot of errors, but-"

"Just get to the damned point already! Who's better, him or me?" he
snapped.

Her cheeks filled with hot blood and she glared spitefully at him. She
decided to stop dancing around the topic and tell him what he really wanted to
hear. "Fine. Here are the facts, tough guy. Yamcha was longer, you're wider. He
was gentle, you're rough. He liked to cuddle, you don't. Satisfied?"

There was silence as he absorbed this information with his customary
deliberation. Bulma expected anger as a response but as ever, he proved he would
not be predictable, at least not in this area. "How much longer?"

"...what-?"

"An inch? Two? How much-"

Bulma fell strengthlessly backwards into bed and buried her face into her
pillow as she murmured, "I can't believe I'm having this conversation." Her
features softened when she looked over at his expectant face lying only inches
from her own. She brushed back a forelock of hair hanging over his brow and
kissed his forehead. "He didn't have the stamina that you do and you're not even
at full strength yet. He wasn't as thorough with me either. Yamcha...didn't like
giving me oral."

"Why not?"

He thought it was gross, she wanted to say and said instead, "He wasn't
gifted with a Saiyan's talented tongue."

It was the correct thing to say if Vegeta's gloating little smirk was any
indication.

"You would have been too much for me ten years ago," Bulma went on. "But
now, I realize I was getting bored with the same old routine. You're by far the
better lover of the two but that won't stop me from thinking about him."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"It means that Yamcha was my first. We dated close to fifteen years,
longer than most marriages. It's only natural for me to draw comparisons between
the two of you."

"Well, don't. I don't like it."

She had to betray a laugh at his discomfort. "I can't just stop it because
you tell me to. First lovers are special. Don't you ever think about your first
time?"

Vegeta didn't say anything but Bulma saw a muscle jump in the corner of
his jaw in response to her words. Misinterpreting the sign she lightly slapped
him on the chest. "I don't even want to hear about it! I can well imagine what
Nappa and Radditz set up for your first adolescent screw."

Still silent, he reached up and shut off the light and allowed her to
snuggle up close to her. Truthfully he was too lost in thought to even notice
her suffocating presence beside him as he worked her words over and over in his
mind with his usual tenacity. She hadn't lied to him this night and for that he
was grateful but her words had inadvertently awoken ghosts he had hoped were
buried long ago.

'First lovers are special,' she had told him, speaking the words with a
wistful innocence brought about by a pleasant recollection of a trouble-free
past.

He would like to tell her that not all admittance's invoked cheerful
memories. Such confessions could be like boils that, when finally lanced,
spilled noisome pus and pungent scents. They could lurk in the shadows of
conscious thought waiting for a moment of weakness before pouncing, exposing
their foul essence in full and terrifying clarity. If ever exposed to the light
of day, such memories would thrash and scream and surrender to madness, taking
their unfortunate host right along with them down that path of irretrievable
hell.

Even worse, some memories resided only in the depths of recurring
nightmares, never to be shared with another living soul.



-------------------------------------------------- -----------------------------
NEXT CHAPTER TO BE POSTED SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 24, 2001. If you would like to be
on the mailing list to receive notification of when a new chapter of this story
is posted, please e-mail your request to: darke_angelus@hotmail.com
--------------------------------------------- -----------------------------------
Chapter Seventeen: Insight is given to the depths of Vegeta's dark past as Bulma
begins to catch glimpses into the Saiyan's worst nightmares.