Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Senses ❯ Chapter 1 ( Chapter 1 )

Senses

by Debby Dea

Rated PG13 (mild language)

Chapter One

Blood.

But it wasn't the scent of clean blood from a fresh cut that woke Vegeta. Not the kind of smell that made his own blood pulse faster with excitement through his body. This blood was sour and tainted with a peculiar odor that he had never encountered until coming to this place. What was worse, it was accompanied by a strong flowery scent he assumed was meant to mask the other. The overpowering combination made him sick.

He wrinkled his nose against the assault before cracking open one eyelid. Even before catching sight of the odor's origin, he knew where it came from.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Vegeta demanded of the intruder.

"Well, excuse me!" Bulma shot back at him, facing him defiantly with one hand on her hip. "This happens to be my house!"

He groaned and dropped his feet to the floor as he sat on the edge of the bed. He knew that tone. If he didn't escape her sight soon, he would end up with a headache from her barrage of complaints.

It had only taken him a few months of living with this woman to link the scent with the mood. Vegeta had even given the monthly occurrence a name - Hell Week - and learned the only way to live through it with any sanity was to stay as far away from her as possible. All he wanted was to get something to eat and go out to the gravitation chamber to train.

"Why don't you just get out of my bedroom?" he growled from between clenched teeth.

"Why don't you learn to do your own laundry?" she snipped, grabbing up the clothes he had discarded on the floor the night before. She then picked up a neatly folded pile of clean clothes and tossed them at him. "Here's your royal raiments, Your Highness," she added, dropping an exaggerated curtsy to go with her sarcasm.

Vegeta picked them up and tossed the sheet away from his midsection. As he stood, ready to head for the bathroom to shower, he was a little disappointed that his nakedness didn't receive at least a small reaction from her. That only proved that Hell Week had, indeed, begun.

He much preferred her other dominant scent. That odor was much more pleasing to his sharp senses. A rich, musky odor that was also accompanied by a much better attitude that he wished lasted much longer. Vegeta had termed this time Bitch in Heat; mostly because during these days, that pitiful excuse of a boyfriend of hers hung around, sniffing around her skirts. He couldn't understand why she kept allowing him back in her house. She obviously couldn't smell the other women on him as easily as Vegeta could. Usually, he reeked of them.

"I can't understand how one man can sweat so much," Bulma complained as she jammed his dirty clothes in the basket she had carried in. "These things stink!"

"Look who's talking," Vegeta said under his breath. He slammed the bathroom door shut behind him so he wouldn't have to listen to her rebuttal.