Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Senses ❯ Chapter 4 ( Chapter 4 )

Chapter Four

How could hands that small feel so good?

"You overdid it. . .again!" Bulma pointed out. She worked the strong-smelling medicine into Vegeta's tight muscles with long, hard strokes.

"I did not overdo it," Vegeta argued.

As much as he was enjoying her touch, he wished the doctor's prescription didn't have to smell so horrid. Although she was standing right next to him, he was having a hard time picking out her scent. And she had smelled so good when she first came into his room. A combination of fresh air and cinnamon joined her own, particular aroma, sending his olfactory nerves into a frenzy of delight. But now all he could smell was that sharp, unpleasant odor of medicine.

"And I told you I would do this myself," he added, hoping she wouldn't see through the lie.

"Yeah, sure you would," she said with a laugh that sounded like music to Vegeta's ears after the long day of solitary silence. She finished with the back of his legs and paused to apply more cream before starting on his back. "And since you can't reach these muscles yourself, I might as well do them all."

Vegeta stretched his neck back and forth as Bulma kneaded the aches away. The cream penetrated his skin on contact and spread a soothing warmth deep into the muscles. He knew without her administrations, he wouldn't have been able to get the comfortable rest he needed to heal; but he wasn't about to admit that to her.

He settled his head to the side and watched as her hips swayed back and forth with the movement of her arms. At night, she usually changed into more comfortable clothes, and tonight she was wearing shorts and a t-shirt with the name of her father's company printed across her chest. Labeled clothing seemed strange to him - he had never seen it on any other planet - and he suspected it was invented with the express purpose of drawing the eyes to particular parts of the body. When she turned to grab the cream container, he found himself staring at the label printed on her back pocket.

"OK, flip over," Bulma ordered.

"Easy for you to say," Vegeta grumbled, tearing his eyes from her backside and forcing his relaxed muscles to respond. He tried to move smoothly, but winced when a sharp pain shot through one shoulder. Luckily, her back was still turned, so his pride was as intact as it could be given his shamefully weakened state.

Again, Bulma began the massage at his feet. She rubbed up one leg to the knee, then the other. As she worked on each thigh, he felt a peculiar mixture of disappointment and relief that she always stopped a respectable distance from the top of each leg. He was also glad that he was able to control each and every muscle in his body. If he hadn't, she would have been able to tell immediately how her touch affected him.

Vegeta closed his eyes while she worked on his chest and arms. The sight of her leaning over him pressed his control to its very limits. Instead, he concentrated on taking deep, even breaths. To keep his mind occupied, he ran through battle strategies and training exercises. Before he had to resort to reviewing past purging missions, she was finished. Even though the medicine still warmed his muscles, his skin felt suddenly cold without her touch.

"All done," Bulma announced and glanced at her watch. She quickly screwed the top on the cream and wiped her hands with a towel.

"Late for something?" Vegeta asked, trying to make the question sound casual.

"An old friend from school is in town and I promised to meet her in an hour. I've got just enough time to get ready." At the door, she snapped her fingers. "I just remembered. I made apple pie today. There's a piece on the kitchen table for you. Hope you like it."

Vegeta choked down the too-sweet, too-syrupy dessert as he listened to Bulma hurry back and forth in her room above him. He had been relieved to hear she was seeing a girlfriend instead of rushing off to Yamcha's side, but he couldn't deny the feeling of loss he knew he would feel when she left. The house always seemed so empty without her.

"Well, I'm off," Bulma said when they met on the stairway. "Goodnight."

She gave Vegeta an impulsive kiss on the lips before she bounded down the rest of the stairs and out the door. Soon he heard the roar of her car engine as she pulled out of the driveway and headed off into the night.

With a sigh, he went to shower off the ill-smelling medicine and wash the memory of her touch out of his skin so he would be able to sleep without dreaming about her all night long. There was only so far even his control would stretch.