Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Possession ❯ Party Preparations and Rivals. ( Chapter 3 )

Possession

 

Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ...so you can't sue me 'Sticks her tongue out.'

 

Enjoy.

 

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Chapter 3: Party Preparations and Rivals.

 

Capsule Corp. was buzzing with excitement.

 

A grand festive event was ahead. Servants and extra staff, especially selected for this occasion were busy decorating the extravagant mansion, hanging up all kinds of broad shimmering silk ribbons and garlands everywhere, making the grand estate shine like a palace. Flowers and food were being carried in and out, and in the kitchen four stars chefs were performing gourmet miracles in a never ending flow.

 

Both in the inner and outer gardens; unending strings of lanterns in dazzling colours were being wrapped around the luscious green crowns of the trees out in the wildlife yards. Outside, under the thousands of lights benches were carefully arranged in the pre-party atmosphere, warming up the silent excitement that would soon be flooded with all the top images of business from around the world.

 

White light tablecloths swam on top of the tables before being decorated with the expensive pearly porcelain, the hallmarked silverware and crystal glasses. Large vases of ingenious glass stuffed with blooming flowers topped the beauty of the dinning tables, and in the corners; tables were lined up with exotic and colourful drinks and bottle after bottle of French champagne.

 

In the throws of this impenetrable light and happiness, one hollow presence loomed about in the shadows. Its presence was first unnoticed by the busy trespassers, putting themselves in an unknown danger. A lip curled upwards revealing a hint of an ivory fang, as the shape of the shadow thickened and blackened further seeking answers to the ignorant maggots invading his newly marked territory.

 

Only one person stood in his way of ridding himself of the uninvited guests. Her authority stretched itself into every corner of the whole property like rays emitting from a sun. The sun herself, strolled around like a shinning beacon of light, barking out orders and instructing the poor fools to up the pace. And despite all of that, they adored her.

 

But she was worried. Everyone was worried. The darkness he possessed was great enough to swallow up all of the light if wished so. Whenever he chose to come close enough, fear would instantly spread through the air, like a fog. She pretended not to care, but he knew that she did.

 

He sneered from a distance, knowing that his warning was meaningless because the incompetent fools that bounced in and out of his domain were lucky enough not to know who he was. Only when she was around their fear was evident. She would catch him a little too close to one of the spunky curious ones, and instinctively come to the ignorant individual's rescue; it had become a sport to them. One that Bulma didn't dare slack off in. After all there was only one wordless rule settled between them. If she could keep them out of his way they wouldn't die.

 

She knew that Vegeta was genuinely angry about all the briskly activity that flooded his mind day and night, and she had to run around to make sure that he didn't pop the servants down when no one was watching. To her relief however; Vegeta had thankfully moved himself out in the GR to be rid of all the noise. Unfortunately the damned cupola was no where near soundproof, and it wasn't because there were any less noise in the garden than there was inside the house.

 

*****

 

Evening came.

 

The guests mingled about. The male leaders from all of the most successful companies in the world waltzed through the crowd, their wives in tow, eagerly extending their hands to shake it with the three hosts.

 

The party soon divided itself into a male, female section. The wives pranced around in the outer gardens shaking hands, and praising each other for their fabulous newly puffed up ball gowns, and the sentence 'did you loose weight?' rang out more than once.

 

The men mostly kept inside thus keeping close to the drinks, talking among themselves, one hand gesturing to magnify the importance of the subject at hand, while one colourful drink sloshed around in the glass.

 

Bulma flooded around in a black-purple gown, the form fitting garment sliding down the curves of her body until widening at the bottom elegantly gliding around her legs as she moved. In the back were fastened two veils of shimmering black transparent silk, the ends hooked to two ebony rings on each middle finger, the whispers of silk heightening the grace of her every move. She zigzagged effortlessly in between the guests like a ray of moonlight, chatting with the guests as they offered their congratulations on the newest company Capsule Corp. had taken under its influence.

 

As she swept through the separated crowds she sighed as she spotted her mother eagerly conversing with the majority of the colourful crowd of expensive clothed wives. At that moment she felt a stitch of disgust in her side, such false artificial wives only gluing themselves to each of the fat suits, because each of them possessed a big fat pocketbook. What a pathetic way to live, those gluttons for attention, desperate to find a loophole to fame and fortune by saying 'I do'. Well maybe not the loophole to fame, such a thing needed to be earned, and Bulma knew that even though she was by far the most beautiful female in the midst tonight; and always would be. Her male colleagues and her business connections genuinely admired and respected her for her brainpower, which was enough to make the saliva dry up in their mouths, when they caught sight at her killer body.

 

She made her way through the crowds smiling politely her mind absent. She reached for another glass of champagne to dull the gentle thumping in her throat, which had gone sore from all the idle talk. Her mind went heavy with that dreadful memory of the day in her lab with Vegeta. Her hand drifted to her neck and she was thankful that her make-up had just been adequate to cover up the bruises.

 

It had been no more than a week ago since she was nearly strangled to death by her house guest, and the mere memory of her flirtation with death that day, was enough to constrict her throat to the point where she nearly choked on her own.

 

A tingling sense of uneasiness fluttered through her limbs and settled in the pit of her stomach. She turned abruptly, searching for him. Her vision sharpened and the cheerful voices around melted together to a deep humming as she zeroed in on the spot from where she felt she was being watched.

 

Vegeta came strolling out from behind a tree just behind the tight-packed horde of females. The ones in the outer line of the group eagerly turned to observe the new arrival, but his eyes burnt only on hers as he gracefully out stepped any other unimportant individual.

 

The butterflies in Bulma's stomach were replaced with dread, and her eyes stung with the intensity of his gaze. Her hand found her throat again as she continued to watch almost paralyzed as the Saiyan crept closer to her. His facial features shoved nothing at usual, but there was a little unhidden flame of some indefinable something that flickered in his eyes, which almost immediately peaked her interest. Her head however swam with worry, and she wondered if he really was here to sate himself in her, regardless of her refusal.

 

Bulma didn't realize until a few seconds later that Vegeta had stopped his advance towards her. She had been too caught up in her fantasy.

 

Her; running to a deserted spot of the garden, in an attempt to escape the inevitable, Vegeta slowly following, enjoying her desperate attempt to flee. Then out of nowhere he would corner her, sling her over his shoulder as he carried her off to a secret spot in the garden where he would slam her against a tree, tear the silk from her heated skin, and fuck her until her throat was raw and bleeding with her screams.

 

Bulma almost blushed at the embarrassing power her dirty mind had over her other emotions, she could feel the dull heat gathering between her thighs and jolts of electricity shot through her legs making them buckle a little. She drew herself up her icy gaze sought out that of the Saiyan and she bristled when she for the briefest of seconds saw a diabolic smirk sweep across his lips. It was brief, but she new she had seen it.

 

She sneered turning away when the dull sound which had been thumping in her ear the whole time was becoming too insisting to ignore. Keen eyes darted in between the guests, and at some point returned to Vegeta's from where he stood firmly with his legs apart, his royal grace fully on display for the countless of females that stood a few feet away giggling and whispering over the rim of their champagne glasses.

 

Bulma swallowed as she saw his eyes narrow and her ears was flooded with the distant calling of her name. She turned just in time miss the sharp inhale of the Saiyan as he glowered at the offending male twisting his way through the crowd towards his female.

 

"Bulma"

 

Bulma watched surprised as a tall finely sculptured male came towards her, his open kind features brightened in a smile as he waved to her, eagerly pushing past people in an effort to reach her. He finally made it over, and Bulma found herself smiling as well extending her hand which he grasped happily, before bringing it to his lips kissing it tenderly before realising it.

 

"Hello Tristan, how nice of you to come."

 

Tristan smiled, his green eyes sparkling and Bulma lowered her eyes coyly while secretly gloating inside. She knew Vegeta was watching and she hoped the arrogant bastard was biting holes in his tongue with envy.

 

"Thanks Bulma. Wow! You look exquisite tonight, so how have you been lately?"

 

Shaken from her haughty thoughts she found herself melting at his happy childlike demeanour. He was one of the new top images in business, smart and ambitious, and a hardcore business man, but a sweet and playful soul outside the office. He was about Bulma's age and very handsome with the combination of the short raven hair with long bangs that fell provocatively around his face, making him seem older and more dangerously alluring, and combined with his open luxuriant green eyes, he would make quite a catch.

 

"Oh, the usual. You know, running Capsule Corp. crushing a few rivals, hosting all these ridiculously necessary parties." She smiled confidently, bringing her glass to her gloss wetted lips, finishing the last of the expensive brew.

 

He laughed at that, a handsome genuine sound that instantly put her nerves at ease even though she knew that she was still being watched.

 

"You're right. These public appearances can be quite a pain sometimes huh?" He remarked his eyes flickering to her empty glass and back up, before he gently put his arm around her like a gentleman, guiding her over to the bar for a refill. As they walked along Bulma suddenly stiffened as she felt an almost searing heat penetrate her back, it filtered through her clothing and burnt its way through her skin almost to the bone. She gasped dropping her glass, and resisted the urge to whip around see if the silk on her back really had turned to ash, and she looked to Tristan to see if he might be checking his hand for burns. But all she was met with was the concerned look in his eyes.

 

"Bulma are you alright, you turned pale all of a sudden?" He halted his steps and stood before her with his hands on her shoulders to support her. Bulma barely managed to nod, giving him a half-hearted smile as she tried to hide the fact that she had broken a sweat.

 

"I-I'm fine, thank you, I just got dizzy all of a sudden."

 

Tristan gave her a dubious look, and curled his strong arm around her keeping her closely melted into his body as he neglected the path to the bar and instead let her over to one of the unoccupied benches in one of the more quiet parts of the garden. Bulma gladly accepted the aid of his strength since she could feel her legs rattle at the intense wave of rage from the Saiyan. As they walked along she smiled reassuringly at some of the more observant guests, whom had witnessed her sudden collapse.

 

As they walked Bulma caught the eyes of her tormenter, and tried to hold back a sneer, while at the same time trying not to display any outward weakness. She pressed herself closer to the muscled body next to her, and was delighted to see how his gaze sharpened thus making his forehead seem more pronounced. Her eyelids lowered while her eyebrows rose in a pompous uncaring manner, as if his little attempt to tame her in public hadn't affected her at all.

 

Vegeta however decided to shift his tactics, gracefully craning his neck to side, his insidious gaze settled on one of the more attractive females on display tonight. Bulma's clear eyes followed his line of vision and she half sneered half snorted at his choice of willing whore. A young, blooming woman in her middle twenties. She wore a long sleek crimson dress with a long slit down to her belly button, held in place by two diamond strings. Bulma knew her; she was a brain dead middle class girl with an insatiable desire for Gucci shoes. She had been shagging with the majority of her business connections, roaming around in their midst, like a undressed fashion doll, playing on her good looks and overgrown bosom, until at last she had caught one of them twice her age.

 

Vegeta looked at her out of the corner of his eye, and his lips coiled into an unabashed smile as his pink tongue darted out to lick his lips as his eyes drifted back to the female that was standing with her back to him, chattering, unaware that she was in the deadly predator's line of sight.

 

Bulma's expression remained unchanged. No doubt that Serena would be willing to fuck Vegeta if he made the advance, but the woeful arrogant little girl had no idea of what she would be getting into. There was simply no way that Vegeta would get any satisfaction out of bedding her, which pleased Bulma. Vegeta's ulterior motive for showing himself here tonight was after all to get her jealous and then in her rage get her to leave the party, where she would be exposed, vulnerable and utterly alone.

 

Having exchanged this silent battle in mere seconds Bulma felt secure enough to dismiss Vegeta as unimportant. She broke the connection with his bottomless stare just as her handsome saviour spun around, easily seating her on the cool wooden bench. He sat down next to her, his leg pressing against her silk clad one, and he smiled resting his arm along the back of the bench.

 

"Are you sure you are all right?" He asked sitting up straighter on the bench, ready to leap up and get her whatever she asked for. "Can I get you anything?"

 

"Ah" She murmured, again taken aback by his sweetness, she knew she really could ask anything of him. "No I'm fine, will you just sit here with me?"

 

He blinked, posture slacking before he settled down next to her, removing his arm from the back of the bench and clasping his hands together in his lap like some shy country boy. Bulma's smile faltered, her favour for him instantly dropping. So, he wasn't interested in her at all. Bulma felt both pissed and beyond disappointed, and even though she resisted with all her might, she felt her eyes being drawn on their own accord only to find them locked with Vegeta's once more, and she saw the mockery shinning in them, and she felt shivers of wrath and embarrassment whiz up her spine making her tremble.

 

She was suddenly overcome with an unreasonable anger towards Tristan, how dare he resist her!? She was Bulma Briefs! She was irresistible! She refused to appear unattractive in front of Vegeta. He was the only one that didn't see her as his superior; He refused to yield to her, and instead he had even made her bent to do his bidding. She was the stronger of the two, she had always been the strongest in everything, and some dark alluring stranger would not make her confidence crumple when it really mattered.

 

Gnashing her teeth she turned back to the annoyingly gorgeous fool beside her he spoke up again, all the while feeling Vegeta's gleeful stare burn holes in her back.

 

"Bulma you're not cold are you?" He asked, and Bulma realized how she had woven her arms around herself, her nails digging half-moon shaped indentations in her white skin.

 

She forced herself to regain control of her limbs while drawing her shoulders up in a shrug, letting a coy smile curl up on her lips. Immediately Tristan was up whipping off his jacket before gently laying it over her shoulders, she smiled in gratitude, one hand pulling it tighter around herself she snuggled into it. Tristan smirked eyes gleaming, before sitting down again, and this time coiling his arm firmly around her shoulders he pressed himself against her.

 

Bulma smirked indefinably at her own genius. No man could resist the temptation of a cold lonely woman on display, so she just had to dig fourth her inner helpless female, and he would be all hers. She shot a cocky glance at the dark prince, standing there surrounded by those fawning females. He stood strong and rigid, but his eyes was a vortex of unhidden fury, and she felt the escalation of the heat that ravaged her body, but with Tristan's arm shielding her she was out of danger. If she however concentrated really hard she could see the blue shadow of his aura outlining his body, and although his rage was exclusively directed at her, she seemed to be the only one at the party who had noticed how the air was thick and undulating.

 

She felt fear creep into the pit of her stomach again and her attempt to suppress it was unsuccessful. Dreadfully she was forced to watch as Vegeta's expression coiled into a devilish smile his eyes holding hers captive as he slowly turned around like a sleek demon and left the party as silently as he has arrived.

 

Bulma sat back on the cold hard bench, the searing sweat had turned cold, rolling like tiny ice crystals down her heated skin, and she could only wish that when she was obliged to leave the party that she would make it safely through the predator's territory without being detected by the unpredictable Saiyan.

 

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