Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Pseudo Ferocity ❯ Freedom's Price ( Chapter 14 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z or any of the character appearing in the manga or television show. Nor am I making any profit off of this story.

 

Author's Notes: I had something I wanted to say…but now I can't remember it, so it couldn't have been that important…lol…I'll probably remember about 5 minutes after this chapter is posted…

 

*Special thanks to Kat8125, and Silver Sun for beta-ing*

 

14: Freedom's Price

 

 

Yamcha breathed a long, low sigh as he hung up the phone, a little in shock at the conversation that had just taken place. "So that's it, I guess…" he murmured to himself. That was it. He and Bulma were officially over. It hadn't been at all like he'd expected it to be.

 

There was no fooling himself, he'd known it had been coming for a long time, and while he was almost afraid at the thought of ending the ten year relationship for good, he felt a little giddy at his newfound freedom. Sure, he and Bulma had broken up before, and each time he had thought it would be permanent, only to find himself back in her arms the next week. This time, it was different. Something deep in his gut told him that there was no going back this time. It was final. It was the end of what had probably been the best ten years of his life.

 

"But everything has to end sometime, doesn't it?" He asked himself, peering out at the cityscape from his window, full of twinkling lights, like stars in the night sky. The digital clock on his bedside table blared 2:25am in garish red numbers, shining through the darkness. "Yeah, everything ends eventually. Even if it goes on all your life, you have to die some time." He nodded in the dim light, a passive bob of his head, and sighed again.

 

It wasn't that he was upset over losing her. He had known for a long time that what they had was not the real thing; not real love. He had been content to pretend though, even if only for a while. But his biological clock was ticking; he wasn't getting any younger, and the instinctual urge to produce offspring had begun to tickle the back of his mind, always sitting on his subconscious, teasing him with its baby cute features. He wanted children, and he wanted a wife, a woman he could love forever. Bulma was not that woman. He didn't know where to find that woman.

 

He didn't even know if she existed.

 

Yamcha pulled his bedcovers back over himself, resting his head on an old pillow, flattened with use. He wondered what had spurred Bulma's sudden decision. It must have been big though, he reflected, for her to have called him so late. At first he thought that perhaps his girlfriend was giving him a booty call, to make up for spurning him earlier, when she had refused to break her plans with Caleb for a quiet dinner with him, but was soon proven wrong, with the soft, somber tone of her voice.

 

It was strange, the way she went about ending their relationship…it had been just like another conversation; a serious conversation, but a normal, everyday one, nonetheless. No crying, no yelling; no emotion whatsoever. Sure, he could sense a tinge of regret in her voice, but it obviously hadn't been enough for her to consider changing her mind.

 

He wondered, briefly, if she had met someone else. With her social life, it was a wonder she hadn't met someone long before. But then again, Bulma had somewhat of an exotic taste in men. She had a knack for finding the really special ones. He felt almost honored that she had stayed with him for so long, when really, she could have had virtually any man on the planet.

 

With a shrug and a sigh, Yamcha rolled over onto his stomach, burying his face in the pillows. It was late, he needed sleep, and there would be plenty of time in the morning to think about Bulma's sudden decision.

 

 

 

Bulma awoke the next morning with an awful kink in her neck. She hadn't slept well, with a torrent of confusing thoughts rushing through her head, and had lain awake on the couch for much of the night, trying to get comfortable but feeling too restless to stay still for more than three seconds at a time. "Damn it…" she hissed, rubbing at her neck with the palm of her hand, trying to work the ache out.

 

"Bulma," Caleb's voice rang out from the tiny apartment kitchen, "I think you need to come in here."

 

Puzzled, she straightened her clothing and ran a hand through her hair, while stumbling tiredly past the couch and into the kitchen, where Caleb sat with the morning paper and a cup of coffee. He looked a little bleary eyed, his pallor a little strained, due to the previous night's drunkenness, but that was all, and she cursed him for it. Caleb VanDios, ever the morning person.

 

"What do you want?" She asked, her throat feeling scratchy and thick. He held up the morning paper. "Oh shit…"

 

 

 

Yamcha poured himself a cup of coffee, and grabbed his morning paper, after checking on Puar, who was still soundly asleep. Seating himself at the table, his eyes focused on the front page, and widened with shock. Right there, in full color print was a picture of Bulma, holding hands with none other than the Saiyan no Ouji, as he led her through a packed crowed of people.

 

The caption beneath the picture read: "Bulma Briefs (right) Vice President of Capsule Corporation, and male model Vegeta (left) hold hands after showing of Bruce Hoffman's 'Leather and Lace' collection. Full coverage on B5."

 

Yamcha blinked, slowly taking a sip of his coffee, all the while staring at the picture, more specifically, focusing on the place where soft, delicate ivory skin met rough, olive hide. Their hands were locked together, in a gesture so natural that he couldn't help but to be jealous.

 

Why, why, why did it have to be him?

 

 

 

Vegeta was interrupted from his training by the shrill ring of his cell phone, set to play the least annoying ring he could find. Unfortunately, it was still pretty irritating. He scowled, stopping in the middle of his kata to answer the annoying contraption.

 

"Speak," he demanded, one hand on his hip while the other held the phone to his ear. His bare chest shone in the sunlight with a thin sheen of sweat, attracting stares from the usual crowd of onlookers.

 

"Vegeta?" Shelly Garris-Hoderpesenburgh's voice grated, "Vegeta, have you seen today's newspaper? If you haven't, go get a copy right now!"

 

"Why?"

 

"Just do it!" came the screeched reply, and Vegeta rolled his eyes, but dutifully walked to the nearest paper vendor, and pushed the required amount of coins into the little yellow machine. Pulling out his paper, he unfolded it, and blinked. "Well?" Shelly's voice demanded, obviously eager to know the details.

 

"…So what?" Vegeta managed after a moment, calmly walking back to where he had been working out. Inside, he was a raging torrent of thoughts and emotions, but uncertainty reigned, and out of a long standing habit, he pushed anything that could be perceived as weakness down, forcefully adopting a façade of nonchalance.

 

"So you've got your name, and HAND linked with one of the richest, most famous women on Earth!"

 

"Look," He began, his voice edged with a sharp, warning growl. She persisted, however, poking and prodding as was in her pushy nature.

 

"Seriously Vegeta, if you two are some sort of item…I can definitely work with this! Bulma's got connections, my boy! And imagine the publicity, why-"

 

"It's not for fucking publicity!" He exploded, cutting her off, "If there is something between Bulma and I, it stays between Bulma and I, do you understand? I'll not sink to using her name to raise my status!" The thunder in his voice drew stares from several onlookers, many of whom stopped what they were doing just to listen. Great, as if he hadn't already drawn enough attention to himself for one day. He sent a nasty glare toward the crowd, and was rather pleased at the stricken looks on several faces staring back at him.

 

"Vegeta, I really don't see what the big deal is…"

 

"Do not push me on this. I'm serious. If you ever dare to drop her name in dealings concerning me, you will regret it. I promise you that. I don't need to be associated with her to get somewhere on this mud ball planet." A dangerous, quiet tone, so close to the edge of madness it made Shelly's skin crawl. She let out a little squeak of affirmation, before the line went dead.

 

Snarling to himself, Vegeta tossed the cell phone into his bag and attempted to calm his mind, in order to resume training. God damnable woman, that Bulma was! Everyone seemed to think he needed her help! Well he didn't! He'd been doing just fine until she sauntered back into his life, not that she'd ever really left it, but still! He was the Saiyan no Ouji, and he'd be just fine!

 

Striking out with a vicious kick, he resumed his kata, faster and harder than before. He had to stay in shape, had to keep working himself, every free minute he had, and with the movie filming set to begin in a mere few days, those free minutes would grow sparse in no time.

 

It was worth it, however, to Vegeta, in order to prove himself to the weak little blue haired woman. She would eat her words with that pretty little mouth of hers, and would finally have to admit to him that he was not just the unruly brawn she thought him to be. Of course, if he weren't so stubbornly set on his task, he would have realized that she had accepted him long before, as much more than that.

 

The movie role, much to his surprise, had captivated him more than he liked to admit though, and he found himself thinking that he might very well enjoy the experience of acting professionally. He was to play the Prince of Darkness, Lord of the Underworld, ruler of all things dark and devilish; in short, he was to play Satan.

 

Well, not quite Satan, he amended to himself, but a man who was unwittingly a pawn in Satan's game, who ruled the underworld for the crafty devil, in order to exact revenge on his enemies, and find a lost love of centuries ago.

 

The character he was set to play was very interesting, sentenced to death in the 1600's, for a murder he did not commit, the murder of a queen, and the woman he loved. It was her husband, the King, who was to blame, and Vegeta's character, in the face of death, unwittingly made a deal with the devil, in return for the chance to exact revenge for his love's death, and to find her reincarnation, and be with her. He was a tortured character, ridden with guilt over her death, for she had died in order to protect him, and he was driven very nearly mad by the reality of his Hell. Yet his love and devotion for one woman drew emotion from even Vegeta's heart, and even the cold Saiyan felt remorse for the writer's creation.

 

Not to mention the fact that it struck him a little closer to home than he would ever admit.

 

 

 

Bulma groaned, staring at the paper, and knowing Vegeta would not be pleased, nor would Yamcha, or any of her friends, aside from perhaps Goku, who seemed to be awfully upset that his Prince had moved away from Capsule Corporation. As if on cue, her cell phone rang, and she cringed, instinctively knowing exactly who it was.

 

"Bulma! What the hell is this?" Yamcha's irritated voice blared in her ear, angry and hurt.

 

"I'm guessing you've gotten today's paper then?" She sighed heavily, shuffling over and grabbing herself a mug from Caleb's cupboard. Pouring herself some coffee, she sent a helpless look toward her friend, who only shrugged and cast her a look of sympathy.

 

"Give the lady a prize!" Yamcha growled, "Want to tell me what this is all about?"

 

"He was pulling me through the crowd so we wouldn't get separated. Neither of us even thought about it Yamcha."

 

"Obviously that's not all, seeing as you just felt the need to break up with me at two freakin' thirty in the morning!"

 

"You seemed just fine with it then!" Bulma countered, plopping down on the couch where she had slept. She really did not want to deal with him at that moment, but she resolved to get it over with, since there was really no way she could get out of it.

 

"That was before I thought there was something going on between you and Vegeta!" He spat the Saiyan's name out like a curse, and suddenly, Bulma found herself becoming quite angry with him.

 

"What difference does it make who I have an interest in? It's obviously not you, so stay out of it!" she hissed nastily, wanting to cut him down with her remark.

 

"Bulma, it's Vegeta, do you hear me, VEGETA! You shouldn't be involved with him at all! He's dangerous! I mean, inviting him to live in your house was bad enough, but now I find out there's some sort of secret thing going on between the two of you?" He raged, "Really Bulma, I thought you were smarter than that."

 

"I was stupid enough to spend ten years with you, a stupid, self involved, weak coward! I don't think I can do any worse!" She snapped, feeling a very real desire to hurt him. "I've got to go now. Stay out of my love life. Actually, just stay out of my life altogether." She muttered, hanging up the phone, and feeling the tears begin to prick at her eyes.

 

"You okay Bulma?" Caleb's voice, soft and concerned, caused her to burst into tears.

 

"See? I told you!" she blubbered, between sobs, "I told you everything would be a mess if I got involved with him." She grabbed a Kleenex from the box on the coffee table and dabbed at her eyes, wiping away the tears. "My friends will all be mad at me now, and frig, I don't even know if there is anything between us!"

 

"Shush, honey, shhh, don't cry." Caleb cooed, trying to soothe his long time friend. "I've seen the way he watches you, Bulma, there's definitely something there, sweetness." He sat down beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "What is it about you and me, huh? We always have the worst trouble with men." He quipped, and she couldn't help but giggle, hearing the smooth masculine voice moan about boy-trouble. "Everything will be okay. You'll see, Bulma, you'll see."

 

"Damn, Caleb, what is it with me lately, always bursting into tears? I feel like such a baby."

 

"I dunno, PMS?"

 

"Asshole…" she muttered, and he laughed, hugging her close.

 

"Ahh, there's the feisty girl I know."

 

 

 

Goku couldn't help but to grin as he looked at the front page of the paper. Gohan was reading the world and business pages, and Chi Chi only ever looked at the home section, so that left the entertainment section to him, and plastered over the whole page was a picture of Bulma and Vegeta holding hands. He didn't bother to read the article, full of speculation about the nature of their relationship; all the proof the big Saiyan needed was right in front of him.

 

At first, it had seemed to him that if Vegeta moved out of Capsule Corporation, he might never get together with Bulma, as Trunks had predicted, yet it appeared that he was wrong, and that their separation was allowing them to progress into possible couple-hood. "Absence makes the heart grow fonder!" he mumbled to himself, his grin widening with pleasure.

 

"What was that, Goku?" Chi Chi's voice asked, soft and pleasant in the calm atmosphere. It always put her in a good mood to see Gohan reading or studying.

 

"Umm…Instance in shopping mart grows hotter. I, uh…I was just reading the headline out loud. Sorry Chi!" He bumbled, trying to cover up what he was reading. Chi Chi, he knew, would not be nearly as pleased as he, to discover the possibility of a budding romance between Bulma and Vegeta. She held a grudging sort of respect toward the Saiyan Prince, but in no way did that mean she liked him, and wanted him anywhere near her friends and family.

 

"That's alright sweetheart. Just don't disturb Gohan-chan!" she smiled, looking over at her son, who the held up the business section in front of his face as he read. Little did she know that he actually had the comic page hidden inside.

 

 

 

Bruce sat down with his coffee, smoothing his silk robe as he opened the morning paper. "Oh my jibblies!" he squealed aloud, nearly spilling the hot coffee on his lap. "Oh! This is so exciting! Aww! Holding hands! How cute! Oh, I could just die! I can't believe it!! Oh wait! Yes I can!"

 

He was happy for them, genuinely happy, and the emotion was strong enough to curb the melancholy funk he had been in since the previous night, after dropping Caleb off. What had happened between them…the kiss…he didn't know what to do. It was nice to have something else to think about.

 

 

 

 

And there's the end of that chapter!! I don't really know how long the next one will take…I seem to be having Writer's Block problems so it may take a while…

 

If you'd like to join the update mailing list, please send a BLANK email to

cat_girl_26-subscribe@topica.com

If you'd like to talk to me, send to cat_girl_26@hotmail.com

 

Mp3 of the Day: "Night of Fire" from the anime Initial D. Sorry I don't know the artist's name, but it's real easy to find with the anime name. Anyway, it's a really upbeat dance kind of song; everytime I hear it, I can't help but to move around in my chair in a pathetic attempt at dancing…lol.