Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Show Him How ❯ Party time. ( Chapter 9 )

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

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z, and I am making no profit off of this story, so please don't sue me.

Author's Note: Okee dokers! I'd just like to answer a few questions that I was asked in various emails and such. Firstly, I didn't write a fourth of July fic cause I'm Canadian, and we do our Canada day stuff on July 1st, but I was really busy so I didn't have any time to do a Canada Day fic either, for those of you who would have read it.

And another one. Why all of a sudden do people start emailing me, asking me my age? A few people asked me before, but I got like, 10 emails in the past couple weeks of people wanting to know how old I am. Well, here it is. I'm 15 right now, and I'll be 16 on September 26th. I hope you're happy now. My well-guarded secret isn't a secret any more…now I'll just have to do something dastardly so I can have another well kept secret. *giggle*

*Special Thanks to Vegetababe and Bulma Peacecraft for Beta-ing!*

Show Him How

Chapter 9: Party time!

Last Time: Bulma found out that Huyv is not Vegeta's son, but now knows that that is Vegeta's problem!

"No woman, Huyv is no son of mine…and that is precisely the problem." Vegeta's words rang throughout Bulma's head, even two days after he had spoken them. What exactly had he meant when he said that it was the problem? Did he want Huyv to be his son, or was he still in love with Yelta? Damnit! This would be so much easier to figure out if somebody would tell me what happened ten years ago when Vegeta was here last!

Grumbling to herself, Bulma dressed and got ready for dinner, deciding to forgo anything too formal. Suddenly, there was a loud, impatient knock at her door. Pulling her robe tightly about her, Bulma stomped towards the door, throwing it open to see none other than the Saiyan no Ouji himself, dressed in a stunning outfit of black pants, and a royal blue silk shirt. The kind that laced up in the front (think deep medieval timey V-neck laced up…mmm…) but the thing was, it was wide open and Bulma was given a generous view of his muscular chest, still damp from a recent shower.

"Put on something nice," he growled. "The Graf has come out of his meditation."

"How nice is nice? Everything the Imtorites gave me is nice Vegeta." Bulma stated, crossing her arms over her chest.

With an impatient sigh, Vegeta shoved past the scantily clad woman and stalked right into her bedroom, where he threw open the wardrobe doors and began rifling through the gowns on the hangers. "Any of these three will be fine." He tossed three gowns gently on the bed. "Take your pick. And…" he smirked, and Bulma felt her knees go weak, "Try to avoid staring at my chest all night."

Bulma could only stare in heated mortification as he breezed out of the room, with a grace only true royalty can possess. Only after she heard the door click shut, did she turn to look at what he had picked out. "Oh well…He may love tormenting me, but at least he has good fashion sense." She sighed and picked out a gown, a satiny deep blue number, a perfect match for Vegeta's shirt, with a tight, formfitting bodice and a skirt that puffed out at the hips and went down to her toes. It was embroidered with silver thread, and studded with tiny white jewels, making it look like the night sky, dappled with stars.

Since her makeup was already done, Bulma just pulled her hair up into a quick pile on top of her head, securing it with some jeweled bobby pins, courtesy of the Imtorites. "Man, those guys thought of everything! They must really like pretty women…" she mumbled, sticking in one last pin and slipping her feet into a pair of open toed platform sandals. "There! All ready to go!" Doing a quick check for makeup smudges or noticeable flaws in her appearance, she rushed out the door, smack into Vegeta.

"Right on time Woman." He smirked and offered his arm. "But next time, you could try making a more ladylike entrance."

"Have you been standing outside my door all this time Vegeta? Or did you hear me moving and decide to embarrass me?" Bulma growled, taking a skeptical glance at his gentlemanly arm.

"Nonsense, Onna." Vegeta scoffed. "Now let's get going." He again offered the muscular appendage (no, not that one, hentai lovers, but that will come in good time) and with an irritated sigh, Bulma looped her arm through his and the pair set off towards the dining hall.

As they entered, several Servants of Toog came to greet Vegeta, and there were several inquisitive glances towards the beautiful female on his arm. They were, however, tactful enough not to say anything, after a quick glance from Bramph, who was making his way over.

"My Toog! You are both looking most excellent tonight! Come Vegeta! Graf wishes to discuss things with you! Miss Bulma, Servant of Chikyuu, will be introduced at a later point in the evening." Bulma nodded politely, and released Vegeta from her grasp, then wondered what to do as the only two people she knew wandered off into the crowd. She was not alone for long, however, as a group of women approached her, and drew her into their conversation.

After about ten minutes of friendly chatter and general socializing, everyone was seated, and Bulma was pulled away from her new friends in order to sit beside Vegeta, who was near Graf and Bramph. As the food was served, everyone dug in, and there was little noise aside from the chewing sounds made by the diners in the room. Conversation, Bulma was told, would come later, followed by music and some dancing.

"So Vegeta, Rogue Servant of Vegetasei, what brings you here after so long?" Graf smiled pleasantly, pushing his empty plate away.

"Now is a time for merriment, Graf." Vegeta responded. "We can discuss such matters in due time, but for now, you must share the good news you have heard from Toog!" There was a good round of seconds to Vegeta's motion, and a full room of intent listeners.

"Well," the old Servant chuckled. "If I must." There was some laughter, and Graf's eyes brightened with merriment. He always enjoyed being greeted by his people when he came out of contact with Toog.

For the next hour or so, everyone in the hall listened intently as Graf shared Toog's news, and even Bulma was fascinated at the idea of being able to commute directly with the gods of your religion. Vegeta, she noticed, was a wonderful guest, and an excellent diplomat. He kept his attention focused, and asked several questions, all of which Graf was happy to answer.

"Now," Graf smiled, coming to the end of his tales, "We must have some music, and our dear guest Vegeta-sama must entertain an old man with his youthful exuberance, and show off his dancing skills."

"You are too kind to me, Graf, and to harsh upon yourself."

"If anything, my boy, it is the other way around! I am too harsh on you, and too kind to myself!" There was more good-natured laughter, and the assembled musicians began to play a song. Several couples got up from their seats and moved out to the dance floor, as Bulma looked on, longingly. She felt so strange in this place, with these people she knew nothing about, and desperately wanted to fit in. Graf noticed her melancholy sighs though, and decided that he should definitely do something about it. "Vegeta, my boy, if you will not dance for my amusement, then at least show this lovely little female at your side a good time. Look at how she sighs and rests her cheek upon her hand, and think of how bored she must be, sitting here listening to an old man tell tales of things she knows nothing about."

At this comment, Bulma flushed with embarrassment, and tried desperately to redeem herself. "Oh no, don't worry about it…I quite enjoy listening to what you have to say. You are a fascinating man."

"My Toog," Graf chuckled, smiling. "Between Vegeta and yourself, my girl, my head will grow so large my old bones cannot support it!" He turned to Vegeta again. "Now, go teach this young one how to dance in the style of Toog, and bring a smile to this old man's face."

"If I may point out, Graf, you are already smiling quite broadly." Vegeta countered, but, nevertheless, pushed his chair back and stood. He offered his hand to Bulma, who graciously stood and accepted it, allowing the Prince to lead her onto the dance floor.

Vegeta, Bulma soon discovered, was as skilled a dancer as he was a fighter, and an excellent teacher to boot. He soon had her spinning and twirling as the other dancing women did, but he did it with an extra little flair that caused some of the other couples to stop and move to the side in order to watch the flamboyant pair. It seemed almost as if he were enjoying himself, if one ignored the look on his face. Boredom was plainly written in his eyes, and Bulma could tell that this was no challenge to the Saiyan no Ouji, but she thought that perhaps if a faster beat started up, then he would allow himself to have some fun. Secretly though, she hoped for a slower beat, so that they could dance a little closer than what this particular melody allowed.

Luck was with Bulma that night, for as the song ended, another, much slower one started. Without a second thought, Vegeta pulled the little female closer, swaying and turning with the rhythm. Uttering a tiny sigh of pleasure, Bulma snuggled a little closer to the Saiyan no Ouji, smiling as she felt his muscular arms tighten around her tiny waist.

As they danced, Vegeta found himself thinking about the little human in his arms…very inappropriate thoughts. He couldn't help but to notice her ample breasts pressed so closely against his own muscled chest, and the way her body seemed to fit so perfectly to his own. It just felt so damn right to have this woman in his arms, but it would be so wrong… Even if it were acceptable to take her as a mate, the little wench had already made it quite clear that, although her body reacted so well, she didn't want him. He was so confused. She had so blatantly refused his affections back on Imtor, yet here she was, pressing her curvaceous body flush against him.

She only wanted him physically…was that it? It made perfect sense that her body should react to his advances, even if her mind hated him with a passion… which she must. Oh Kami! Why did women have to be so infuriatingly confusing?

The song ended, and Bulma immediately released her hold on Vegeta, not wanting to seem clingy, but confirming his suspicion. His easy release of her, in turn, made her think that perhaps he was upset with her for some odd reason. Walking side by side, but without words, they made their way back to the table, where Graf was sitting.

"Did you enjoy yourself Bulma?" he asked, with that ever-present smile.

"Yes." she nodded politely, but said nothing more, thinking that if she were to gush compliments to the Saiyan no Ouji, she might embarrass him. Vegeta, however, took this the wrong way, and assumed that she had had a good time dancing, but wanted nothing more, an assumption which hurt him more than he would ever admit.

Within minutes, Graf had engaged them all in some light conversation, and things were going along smoothly until Bulma noticed his eyes widen as he stared across the room. Bulma looked over to where he was, and saw a plainly dressed female making her way across the room towards them.

"What's wrong Graf? You look upset," she asked, noting the almost fearful look in his eyes.

Vegeta too, looked over to the Graf, and his eyes followed that of his friend, to see the mysterious woman, who was now right next to the table. Bulma watched in surprise as his face contorted into a mask of barely contained rage, and several emotions glinted in those deep onyx eyes of his.

"Y…Yelta…" Graf gulped, glancing nervously at Vegeta. "How nice to see you."

Hee hee hee!!!!! Evil cliffhanger!!!!!!!! Gotta love 'em! Hope you enjoyed it, and remember to review!

Next Time: Vegeta and Bulma have a little conversation…