Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Happy Birthday Vegeta ❯ The Dinner Party From Hell ( Chapter 14 )

Happy Birthday Vegeta

Chapter Fourteen: A Hectic Meal

Author's Note: "Thank You!" to everyone who reviewed, and wrote me with ideas. I know, I know, it's been

forever, and this is too, too short. Oh well. <Grins>

Disclaimer: :::grovels at the feet of the One True Master, Akira Toriyama::::

The woman glides across the floor, the stuff of his own personal nightmares, (the ones not about Freiza or Kakkarot) clad head to toe in some clingy blue stuff that makes his fingers twitch to touch it, and her. Instead, he discreetly backs away as she advances, staring impassively at the roses and porcelain curve of her face. Her eyes sparkle gem-like in the softened light, her smile is terrifying in its' open welcome, and he wonders what the hell she's up to. She lays a gentle hand on his muscular forearm.

"I'm glad you finally decided to join us Vegeta." He gives an aggrieved snort at the informality with which she addresses him, and stiffens at the public display of affection. Just once...he wishes futilely, that she would treat him with the respect due his position. He glances around at the ensemble gathered in his honor, finding only one face he is completely unfamiliar with. Cold eyes rake over Sirabi as his arms cross over his chest in classic Vegeta-fashion.

"Who is this?" he demands with all the dismissive arrogance befitting a king. Her eyes glitter gold frost at the No Ouiji, and her easy smile widens a bit in anticipation as she draws on her energy preparing to show him just who she is. A force to be reckoned with, or at least... reasoned with. A simple gesture releases a wave of power, curling around her, unseen ribbons of glamour that coil around him, stroking his face, caressing his chest, soft as catkin fuzz, and as insistent as a Saiyan in rut. He gasps as tiny tremors of desire shake the length of his body, from his princely toes, to the uppermost tip of the rich burgundy flame of his hair....Her molten amber eyes lock with his, and he knows that she could have him. Without effort she could twist his resistance into a bowtie, and then take it off him. Maybe more pleasant than Frieza, but no less a violation. He shudders, a tang of something he'd almost had enough time to forget in his mouth, fear.

Sirabi called her silent, swirling storm of seduction home and all warmth was stripped away in a sudden clarity, leaving a vast, cold, emptiness that Vegeta was all too familiar with. She bowed in a graceful sweep, her fingers steepled before her in a gesture of respect.

"If it pleases Ouiji-sama, I am Sirabi."

Her voice flowed like cool silk, refreshing after the heat of her exhibition. Gohan swallowed dryly, Krillin stared wide-eyed, and Piccolo tugged at the suddenly constricting closure at his throat.

That, was enchantment. Kami rasped in Piccolo's head, sounding every bit as affected as the more, corporeal, men around him. Piccolo groaned.

"It does not please me." Vegeta grated, his body still humming with residual desire and that god damned fear that he crushed before it had a chance to bloom. Sirabi blinked owl-like, confused. This was not expected...

"I am so honored to finally meet you. It is not every day I get to meet royalty or celebrate his day of birth." Her face shone with sincerity, "Let me be the first to say, I hope you get everything your heart desires." He forced himself to release some of the tension in his body. Relief and disappointment warred in his stomach as he realized the woman most certainly was behind this. A stupid Ningen joke.

"Why are you here?" he demanded brutally.

"Vegeta!" Bulma hissed at his side, "she is Piccolo's guest. Be. Nice." His head swiveled as he looked

derisively at the woman, then back at Sirabi.

"And?" he prompted. Sirabi nodded forgivingly.

"It is rather a complicated tale, how I came to be here tonite...but I have come, to offer my skill as an advisor, to one of Earth's guardians." her pause was pure dramatic effect, "You, Ouiji-sama... A birthday gift, if you will." There was much choking and dumping and spraying of drinks amongst the gathered celebrants. Piccolo snorted sweet, red wine into his sinuses, as he gasped, 'Kami! Did you know she planned to do this?' He received the vaguest impression of a shrug in response.

"Enough!" Vegeta bellowed over the sudden din. He pinned Sirabi with ruthless black eyes.

"Enough. I don't know what the woman paid you, but the joke is over. You may go." He then turned furious eyes on Bulma.

"I told you I would have none of this." his bare hands fisted by his sides and he wished absently for his gloves. "Enjoy your dinner." His polite words ripped through her like a razor through tissue paper. Shock was etched on every face as he stalked from the room, his dignity drawn around him like an impermeable cloak. Anguish distorted her features, as she realized he expected her to betray him in such a fashion.

"Vegeta! Vegeta wait!" her cries did not slow his departure.

"Vegeta! I had nothing to do with this! Sirabi is who she claims to be..." She grabbed his arm when she finally caught up to him, and released it abruptly when he froze and flinched away from her touch. Tears scalded her eyes...that he could hate her so much...her very touch... His body was rigid,with barely suppressed emotion, and he turned his head away, refusing to meet her gaze. She moved in front of him, and taking his face in her hands, she forced him to look at her. A volatile cocktail simmered, scarcely hidden behind a marble visage. Bulma swallowed the knot in her throat. "Vegeta, I swear to you, I did not put Sirabi up to this. I've never even met her before tonite." Grudgingly, obsidian eyes focused on her, actually seeing her. "Besides, I have something far more insidious planned for you tonight." an imp of a smile pounced on her mouth, and then vanished. She managed to sound sincere and suggestive at the same time. He sighed heavily, sooty lashes shadowing his cheeks as his eyes closed briefly. A respite, a single moment to regain control where it was lost.

"I suppose this means I owe the sorceress an apology." His voice was low. Bulma dared not speak for fear of startling this strange, 'other' Vegeta that spoke the word, 'apology.' She nodded hesitantly.

"It is of no concern Ouiji-sama. I knew our first meeting would not be a...smooth one." Sirabi's sultry voice came from behind them. Vegeta turned, his imperial protection firmly in place. "It must be advantageous to know everything." Again, Sirabi blinked. She angled her head thoughtfully, her golden eyes narrowing at the realization that her display, had more of an impact than she planned. "Not everything, Ouiji-sama. Obviously, there are gaps, where variables may change an outcome." she inhaled deeply. "It is I, who owes you the apology. I never intended for you to perceive me as a threat. I was searching for a means of getting your full attention...of letting you know that I am worthy of being acknowledged. If I had come here as just a pretty companion with the Namek, you would not have given me the time of day, much less, an opportunity to assist you." Vegeta snorted. Bulma chuckled as she interpreted.

"That means 'damned right.'" Vegeta scowled at Bulma.

"I can speak for myself, woman."

"I'm surprised you remember how." she volleyed. His mouth firmed, he refused to argue with the woman while there were other matters to settle. He turned guarded eyes on the seer.

"Nonetheless. I do apologize. You are the first in...years...to show me any form of respect, and I repay it by insulting you and throwing you out of my home." He continued with a wry smile, "I am sadly out of practice at being royalty." he sent a telling sideways glance at Bulma. Sirabi smiled graciously as Bulma gaped at the pod-Vegeta.

"You will stay for dinner of course?" his throaty invitation sent jolts of jealousy raging down her spine and her blue eyes blazed greenly.

"I would be delighted. Later there will be time to further discuss my offer." Vegeta nodded his assent, looking every inch the Prince handling the usual royal duties.

"Then shall we?" he gestured toward the study with one hand, and placed the other on the small of Bulma's back. He enjoyed the snug fit of the soft fabric beneath his fingers as they splayed on her hip, causing her heart to trip-trip, and her knees to buckle.

"Weakling." he murmured hotly in her ear as he caught her stumble, and brought her back tightly against his chest. He buried his nose in the arch of her neck, breathing in the delicate, musk and floral scent that was uniquely Bulma.

She could only gasp as her body trembled violently and combusted within the steel circlet of his arms. 'How long since he last touched me?' the thought drew those seemingly ever-present tears to her cheeks again. He nuzzled the fragrant column of skin, grazing it with pointed canines, and tender mouth.

'Too long.' came his unbidden, unspoken reply. The intimacy, of the sudden mindspeak, wrenched a sharp cry from her mouth. She wanted so badly to turn in his embrace, to see his face...but uncertainty bound her heart as surely as his arms held her body.

"You are so right, Vegeta. I am weak." She struggled out of his grasp, trying not to hate her desperate response to the Saiyan No Ouiji.

"When it counts." he replied, letting go of her reluctantly. Her jaw dropped, then snapped shut in exasperation.

"You are infuriating!"

He smirked as her face blazed with anger. "Dinner is getting cold, woman." he pushed her gently in the direction of the study.

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The meal was over, except for those lingering over second servings of spiced cake and strong coffee.

No one got second servings of the ice cream, except Vegeta, it was his birthday after all. Digging his spoon into the mounded bowl, Vegeta glanced at Sirabi and poked, "Saiyans had little use for Prophets."

Sirabi's smile barely curved the corners of her mouth. "I understand if they had, Vegetasei might still exist."

The guests drew a collective breath, some cowering beneath the edge of the table, some just being very, very, still so as not to draw his fire. Vegeta swallowed, and spooned another bite, slowly considering the turtle shaped confection that surely contained creamy liquid caramel. Sirabi continued to bait the No Ouiji.

"Freiza was interested though wasn't he? He would have killed to have that power." ' His eyes are fascinating,' piercing like a bird of prey', she thought as they skimmed over her again. ''They let nothing pass, assessing every word, every breath',

"And here I offer it to you free of obligation, Guardian." His eyebrows arched in disbelief, he had not mis-heard the first time. The crystal dish sang when he dropped his spoon.

"Guardian? Are you cracked? Do you know who I am, Sorceress?" He stood suddenly, a dangerous shine in his raven eyes. An arrogant sneer darkening his features making them harsh. Energy danced around his taut body in silver slivers of agitation. His softly spoken words held immesurable contempt.

"I am Vegeta No Ouiji! Frieza's Prize and Instrument of Destruction. I was the face of death for MILLIONS... Only Frieza himself was responsible for more..." The words fell from his lips, ripe with implication that made Sirabi ache. Bulma covered her mouth with one shaking hand. He pushed his bowl away and reclaimed his chair, A frown resting too-comfortably on his mouth, pulled the corners down. He rubbed one throbbing temple before asking tiredly, "Why are you here?"

"I am no parlor trick hired for your birthday Ouiji-sama. I am Sirabi, healer and advisor to those who guard this planet, and it would appear that you need both-"

Unable to maintin her silence any longer, ChiChi launched herself halfway across the mahogany table, shrieking and pointing at Vegeta..

"HE IS NOT A GUARDIAN! He is responsible for the deaths of the very people you claim to serve. My Goku died defending this planet, more than once defending it against Vegeta!"

"Mom, sit down." ordered Gohan, his mouth a thin line of embarrassed determination, anger glinting cooly in his eyes.

"I will not. It is just too much...that HE should be honored as a protector of anything, when my Goku gave his life for this place."

Sirabi turned placid eyes on ChiChi. "Goku chose, to make that sacrifice, repeatedly. Ouiji-sama, was never given a choice, like a weapon, he was aimed and fired. I am certain, that he was not asked. Perhaps the remainder of this conversation should take place in a more, private setting?" she looked pointedly at Bulma.

"The um...library, upstairs." she replied with the shell-shocked look of a natural disaster victim.

"No." Vegeta denied.

"What?!" Mouths fell open in shock..

"We will not, be forced to finish this conversation elsewhere." His onyx gaze swept the table, making contact with every person present, even ChiChi, before continuing.

"Whatever else is to be said, will be said here. I have nothing to hide...these people know who and what I am."

Piccolo, Gohan and Krillin nodded their approval. Eighteen looked thoughtful, and ChiChi looked as though she might throw up as Gohan pressed her back into her seat somewhat roughly.

The Saiyan Prince brought his gaze back to Sirabi, "Aside from the fact that I stretch the definition of 'guardian' beyond its' limit, what need have I for an advisor?"

"Ordinarily, of course, you would not. But events have conspired that place your life, as you know it, in jeopardy." His brow rose again. "Explain yourself, sorceress. There is no one here who could threaten my existence if they wanted to." his lips curled cruelly. Sirabi hesitated..

"As I indicated, this could get, personal, Ouiji-sama..."

"Get on with it." he interrupted.

"As you wish, Ouiji-sama."

"Your mate, has recently become aware of your, unstable, emotional status. Your frustration with your present existence, your regrets, regarding your past, and your grief over your recent loss." His obsidian eyes became heated, intense, and the cruel smirk melted from his face.

"Your suffering, hurt her so, that she sought the dragonballs, with the intention of wishing away that which caused you such pain. And although she understands at least some of the ramifications, she intends to wish that Frieza had never existed." Vegeta stared, slack-jawed as the color and animation left his face. He searched and found his mate wearing a fairer version of his own shock. Her sapphire eyes glimmered painfully bright in a face gone ghostly pale. "It wasn't just about taking away your pain, Vegeta" her voice was a strained whisper, "it was about giving you a chance to claim the things taken from you...and maybe find happiness. You certainly aren't happy here..." her voice faded bitterly away. Sirabi nodded at Bulma encouragingly. "I hoped to convince her otherwise." she whispered to Vegeta.

The Saiyan Prince stared with unseeing eyes at the highly polished wood grain surface of the table.

"Frieza...gone. Is such a thing even possible?"

"I don't think so Ouiji-sama. That, is why I am here."

"Oh man...If Bulma wished that Frieza never existed, that would...undo, a lot of things, a lot of people.." Krillin spoke with something like awe in his voice. "a lot of lives, including Gohan, and Trunks and Goten."

"I hope we make it out of this party without anyone anyone dying or being undone," Krillin stole a glance at Eighteen only to be caught in her candid cornflower gaze. "I kind of like my life the way it is right now." His words cause a small, private smile to grace her face before she looks away.

Chichi swayed to her feet, screeching at Bulma, "HOW COULD YOU EVEN THINK TO DO SUCH A THING? TO YOUR OWN FAMILY...and mine?"

"Mother! Shut up or I will be forced, however regrettably, to shut you up." A growl rumbles from deep in Gohan's chest, his ebony eyes flickering with light.

"--THAT WOULD MAKE YOU A MURDERER...JUST LIKE VEGETA!" ChiChi's last words were followed by a muffled thump and complete silence. Gohan clipped her once on the base of the neck, and watched with detached satisfaction as she crumpled to the floor, her shiny black hair escaping the red and black combs to tangle on the plush vanilla carpet.

"Dear God." whispered Eighteen and she looked at Piccolo in horror.

"Don't look at me! He's not God anymore." the Namek sputtered waving his hands in front of him defensively.

Vegeta let the power trickle through his body in anticipation. He shook his head, cursing his luck and Gohan's timing in at least three languages.

"Gohan?!" he commanded the attention of the half-breed.

"Sire?" His ebon head jerked up in response, those oddly gleaming eyes fixed on the No Ouiji. Vegeta made quick note of the golden rings defining the iris' of Gohan's eyes. He inhaled deeply, and wondered how much trouble this was going to be.

"This might be a good time for you to leave...as we previously discussed."

"But Sire, she is unhurt...and she is...quiet." Gohan's reply is bewildered. Vegeta's lips twitch.

"Such has not escaped my observation. Your loyalty is noted." Vegeta, Master of the Mask, was hardly able to keep a straight face. 'Gods, such a night has never been.'

"Be aware Brat, that if I confine you here, you will be...alone. For the duration." his tone was final.

Understanding dawned on Gohan's face, followed by quick resignation. He pushed his shoulders back,

and stared hard at Vegeta.

"You have accommodations for me, Sire?"

"Hn."

"I will stay here then."

Vegeta spared a look for the rest of the group and could not control the grinch-like smirk that curled across his face. He turned to his mate. "Woman, get the screechy, harpy off my dining room floor. Krillin and I are escorting the brat to the far side of the compound. We'll settle him in the west wing, and it will be OFF LIMITS to everyone but cleaning bots...is that clear?"

Bulma watched Gohan lean over to sniff Eighteen's neck. "Hn...doesn't smell like metal to me..." Krillin slid himself between Gohan's curious nose and the android, garnering a grateful look from Eighteen.

"Come on Gohan…let's go." Krillin nudged Gohan towards the door.

Bulma was laughing as Vegeta approached. "Crystal." she quipped. "You have any idea how long you are confining him for?" He gave her a lengthy, pointed glance.

"We were supposed to consult the authority on half-breed behavior but we'd been unable to contact her as she was out of town on…business."

Bulma felt a twinge of what could not possibly be guilt…not after what she'd been through to gather the dragonballs… She pushed whatever it was away, and mulled over the Semi-Saiyan's possible behavior. She wet her lips with a flick of her tongue, and the moist pink flash had Vegeta strangling on the desire to kiss her.

"You know, I really have no idea…Gohan is our first to go through a rut…" she paused, a frown wrinkling her brow. "In all other areas, the half-breed has exhibited amplified Saiyan characteristics. Chances are this area is not going to be any different." The Saiyan Prince shook his head in agreement, but his attention was still locked on her nubile mouth. The very way she formed words was, attractive to him. Suddenly he realized her speech had stopped, she was staring at him warmly, and he was staring at her mouth… "Oh, hell." He leaned forward, into her personal space, and stole her breath with the sweetest of kisses.

"You make me forget who I am." He whispered against her lips, and then the Saiyan No Ouiji swept out of the study with Krillin and Gohan in tow.

:::Jada does happy dance::::This story just gets weirder and weirder…lol I can't wait for the reviews on this bit…Love you all…Until next time….Jada.