Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Silver Springs ❯ Chapter 19
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: Severina 
Anime/Manga: Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance / Hentai / Angst | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 09.15.2002 | Pages: 1 | Words: 1.5K | Visits: 573 | Status: Work In Progress
Anime/Manga: Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance / Hentai / Angst | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 09.15.2002 | Pages: 1 | Words: 1.5K | Visits: 573 | Status: Work In Progress
** = journal entries
Chapter 19: Wicked Game
"Trunks! Trunks! Will you hurry up in there?" Bulma yelled through his door, planting her hands on her hips. She would have looked motherly if it weren't for the red formal dress she was wearing. With spaghetti straps that accentuated her pale shoulders and a slit that went a little above the knee, she looked like a girl only a few years older than Trunks. "Trunks? Do you need me to help you?" she asked, the annoyance clear in her voice.
"Hold on! I'm almost ready!" he finally called, as he looked at himself in the mirror. He had never dreamed that he would wear the dress armor of a Saiyan warrior, but for this occasion all associated with Vegeta's home base were required to wear it. He pulled the purple locks back from his forehead. More of a widow's peak, black hair and dark eyes, and he would be the spitting image of Vegeta. Taking a deep breath, he headed for the door.
"Oh don't you look handsome! Trunks! How did you grow up so fast? It seems like just yesterday that you were learning to walk!" Bulma said as her son stepped through the door. He turned an impressive shade of crimson.
"Ok. Let's go." He mumbled. The palace was alive with activity. All the servants were trying to put the finishing touches on the feast, or fetch something for one of the visiting dignitaries. Vegeta was having a gathering to welcome Avallino and several other planets from the Vellmina sector into his empire. In a month and a half, there would be another gathering, a much larger one, to celebrate the successful transfer of the Kermanians onto their new planet.
"Alright. I'm going into the dining hall to go talk to the Kermanian representative and see how the capsules are working for them. Make sure you and your little friend Teresa-" the emphasis on her name made Trunks blush more, "are here in a half an hour when the feast starts okay? Don't be late!" Bulma said, parting ways with her son. It had been two months to the day since he had lain with Teresa by that stream. These last two months had been the happiest of his life. He had a wonderful girlfriend, a spectacular sex life and he was getting stronger by the day from the hours of training he put in. He couldn't remember how long exactly they had been on Vegeta's planet, 9 months? 10? But his life was so vastly different from the one he had on Earth, he wondered if Gohan would even recognize him when he returned home.
The feast had gone off perfectly. Vegeta had made a very eloquent speech welcoming the planets into his empire; everyone had eaten a lot and drank even more. It was in this last category that Bulma found herself in, not drunk, but tipsy to the point she had to excuse herself from the feast and wander out into the garden. She knew that anymore alcohol and she would do something embarrassing, so she picked the classy route and left the noisy hall. No one had noticed, Vegeta was busy making small diplomatic talk with all the ambassadors from the numerous planets, Trunks was dancing slowly with Teresa and Ardlin was in a conversation with the Kermanian representative.
She looked at the stars, twinkling in the eerily beautiful night. She wondered which sparkling diamond was the Earth. She didn't even know if she was looking in the right direction. The wind blew softly, making the trees bend and the flowers dance. Even though the night was warm, since it was early summer, she shivered slightly at the touch of the intrusive wind.
"The weather changes quickly here woman, you should have brought a wrap," came the dark, gravelly voice from behind her.
"Since when did you notice what I wear?" she asked playfully, stepping to Vegeta's shadowed figure. The corner of his mouth twitched, that was as much of a smile as she was going to get out of him.
"What are you doing out here?"
"I came to get some fresh air. What are you doing out here? Aren't your guests going to wonder where you went?"
"I am the King. I can do whatever I want, whenever I want. I owe no one an explanation for my actions." Bulma shook her head and started walking farther into the garden. He was too much sometimes, but his cold, conscience answer had made her smile.
"I don't think I like the Emperaklan ambassador. He doesn't seem like a very nice person." Vegeta said nothing as they walked together. "Doesn't it bother you that some of the people in there aren't very kind?" Vegeta scoffed.
"Woman, what these people do, what 'type' of people they are is of consequence to me. I couldn't care less. I associate with them because it benefits my empire. It's survival is much more important that your weakling human idea of morality."
"Oh good lord Vegeta. I can't even have a simple conversation with you without you using the word 'weakling in at least one sentence."
"I speak nothing but the truth."
"You are so arrogant. Can you just be normal?" she looked into his smirking face, he was enjoying this. "No, I guess you can't. But what can I expect from a Saiyan?" she asked, the play in her voice evident.
"Do you dare speak poorly of the legendary Super Saiyan?" he asked, playfulness glinting in his eyes. He pulled her to him. "I will show you what Saiyans can do."
"Vegeta, I am well aware of your many talents. But I would love to see them again." She said, her eyes becoming smoky with lust.
"You will regret the day you questioned the power of the Saiyan race." He said, his voice husky, his fingers running over her curves.
"I don't think 'regret' would be the right word." She said, placing her lips softly against his. Soon, they both melted into the kiss, feeling more electricity between them than ever before. Bulma pulled back from him and gazed into his eyes. "God Vegeta...I...I love you." She whispered. The surprise and even shock that flittered across his face was fleeting. She knew he didn't know what to say. "Vegeta...I know you can never say it, but please, take me back to your chambers and show me just how much you love me." He captured her lips in his, and before she knew it, they were in his room. His lips burned her neck; the straps of her once beautiful dress were torn aside so he could have access to her shoulders.
He laid her down on the bed, pulling the dress off her body and following the retreating fabric with his tongue. From the tip of her feet and back to her lips, he left no skin untouched by his kisses. As he returned to her mouth, he cradled her head in his hands, and looked into her eyes.
"Vegeta...I-"
"Shh." He whispered the corners of his mouth twitching almost imperceptibly. He kissed her again, long and lingering, and Bulma felt the world drop out from under her as she floated away on their passion.
**When I woke the next morning, it was the first time Vegeta was still in the bed. He usually left before I woke up, but that morning, he was sleeping soundly. He looked so young then, even though neither one of us could pretend that we weren't staring middle age in the face.
It was more than I could have asked for. In that one night, in those hours between the garden conversation and the breaking of dawn, Vegeta had proven to me that he loved me. He never said it, he never could, but with his body and tender caresses, he told me over and over again that I had won the heart of the mighty Saiyan. It was more than I could have ever dreamed.
That morning, I kissed him on the forehead, and went to watch the sunrise. It was red, red as the dress that lay crumpled and ruined on the floor by the bed. And for some reason, all I could think of was the little saying my father taught me as a girl. "Red sky at night, sailor's delight. Red sky in morning, sailors take warning." It kept playing over and over in my head like a mantra, and it was as relentless as a telemarketer. Perhaps it was a preminition, one I chose to ignore of course, because I have always been much too stubborn to place faith in anything that cannot be explained by experiments and hypothesis. Maybe it was my own woman's intuition screaming at me. But nonetheless, I brushed it off and returned to Vegeta's bed, to wake him with a loving kiss, and a month and a half later, that morning's feeling of foreboding returned to me full force, and then there was no way to brush it of and return to bed.**
-Excerpt from the Journals of Bulma Briefs, 796 AD.
Chapter 19: Wicked Game
"Trunks! Trunks! Will you hurry up in there?" Bulma yelled through his door, planting her hands on her hips. She would have looked motherly if it weren't for the red formal dress she was wearing. With spaghetti straps that accentuated her pale shoulders and a slit that went a little above the knee, she looked like a girl only a few years older than Trunks. "Trunks? Do you need me to help you?" she asked, the annoyance clear in her voice.
"Hold on! I'm almost ready!" he finally called, as he looked at himself in the mirror. He had never dreamed that he would wear the dress armor of a Saiyan warrior, but for this occasion all associated with Vegeta's home base were required to wear it. He pulled the purple locks back from his forehead. More of a widow's peak, black hair and dark eyes, and he would be the spitting image of Vegeta. Taking a deep breath, he headed for the door.
"Oh don't you look handsome! Trunks! How did you grow up so fast? It seems like just yesterday that you were learning to walk!" Bulma said as her son stepped through the door. He turned an impressive shade of crimson.
"Ok. Let's go." He mumbled. The palace was alive with activity. All the servants were trying to put the finishing touches on the feast, or fetch something for one of the visiting dignitaries. Vegeta was having a gathering to welcome Avallino and several other planets from the Vellmina sector into his empire. In a month and a half, there would be another gathering, a much larger one, to celebrate the successful transfer of the Kermanians onto their new planet.
"Alright. I'm going into the dining hall to go talk to the Kermanian representative and see how the capsules are working for them. Make sure you and your little friend Teresa-" the emphasis on her name made Trunks blush more, "are here in a half an hour when the feast starts okay? Don't be late!" Bulma said, parting ways with her son. It had been two months to the day since he had lain with Teresa by that stream. These last two months had been the happiest of his life. He had a wonderful girlfriend, a spectacular sex life and he was getting stronger by the day from the hours of training he put in. He couldn't remember how long exactly they had been on Vegeta's planet, 9 months? 10? But his life was so vastly different from the one he had on Earth, he wondered if Gohan would even recognize him when he returned home.
The feast had gone off perfectly. Vegeta had made a very eloquent speech welcoming the planets into his empire; everyone had eaten a lot and drank even more. It was in this last category that Bulma found herself in, not drunk, but tipsy to the point she had to excuse herself from the feast and wander out into the garden. She knew that anymore alcohol and she would do something embarrassing, so she picked the classy route and left the noisy hall. No one had noticed, Vegeta was busy making small diplomatic talk with all the ambassadors from the numerous planets, Trunks was dancing slowly with Teresa and Ardlin was in a conversation with the Kermanian representative.
She looked at the stars, twinkling in the eerily beautiful night. She wondered which sparkling diamond was the Earth. She didn't even know if she was looking in the right direction. The wind blew softly, making the trees bend and the flowers dance. Even though the night was warm, since it was early summer, she shivered slightly at the touch of the intrusive wind.
"The weather changes quickly here woman, you should have brought a wrap," came the dark, gravelly voice from behind her.
"Since when did you notice what I wear?" she asked playfully, stepping to Vegeta's shadowed figure. The corner of his mouth twitched, that was as much of a smile as she was going to get out of him.
"What are you doing out here?"
"I came to get some fresh air. What are you doing out here? Aren't your guests going to wonder where you went?"
"I am the King. I can do whatever I want, whenever I want. I owe no one an explanation for my actions." Bulma shook her head and started walking farther into the garden. He was too much sometimes, but his cold, conscience answer had made her smile.
"I don't think I like the Emperaklan ambassador. He doesn't seem like a very nice person." Vegeta said nothing as they walked together. "Doesn't it bother you that some of the people in there aren't very kind?" Vegeta scoffed.
"Woman, what these people do, what 'type' of people they are is of consequence to me. I couldn't care less. I associate with them because it benefits my empire. It's survival is much more important that your weakling human idea of morality."
"Oh good lord Vegeta. I can't even have a simple conversation with you without you using the word 'weakling in at least one sentence."
"I speak nothing but the truth."
"You are so arrogant. Can you just be normal?" she looked into his smirking face, he was enjoying this. "No, I guess you can't. But what can I expect from a Saiyan?" she asked, the play in her voice evident.
"Do you dare speak poorly of the legendary Super Saiyan?" he asked, playfulness glinting in his eyes. He pulled her to him. "I will show you what Saiyans can do."
"Vegeta, I am well aware of your many talents. But I would love to see them again." She said, her eyes becoming smoky with lust.
"You will regret the day you questioned the power of the Saiyan race." He said, his voice husky, his fingers running over her curves.
"I don't think 'regret' would be the right word." She said, placing her lips softly against his. Soon, they both melted into the kiss, feeling more electricity between them than ever before. Bulma pulled back from him and gazed into his eyes. "God Vegeta...I...I love you." She whispered. The surprise and even shock that flittered across his face was fleeting. She knew he didn't know what to say. "Vegeta...I know you can never say it, but please, take me back to your chambers and show me just how much you love me." He captured her lips in his, and before she knew it, they were in his room. His lips burned her neck; the straps of her once beautiful dress were torn aside so he could have access to her shoulders.
He laid her down on the bed, pulling the dress off her body and following the retreating fabric with his tongue. From the tip of her feet and back to her lips, he left no skin untouched by his kisses. As he returned to her mouth, he cradled her head in his hands, and looked into her eyes.
"Vegeta...I-"
"Shh." He whispered the corners of his mouth twitching almost imperceptibly. He kissed her again, long and lingering, and Bulma felt the world drop out from under her as she floated away on their passion.
**When I woke the next morning, it was the first time Vegeta was still in the bed. He usually left before I woke up, but that morning, he was sleeping soundly. He looked so young then, even though neither one of us could pretend that we weren't staring middle age in the face.
It was more than I could have asked for. In that one night, in those hours between the garden conversation and the breaking of dawn, Vegeta had proven to me that he loved me. He never said it, he never could, but with his body and tender caresses, he told me over and over again that I had won the heart of the mighty Saiyan. It was more than I could have ever dreamed.
That morning, I kissed him on the forehead, and went to watch the sunrise. It was red, red as the dress that lay crumpled and ruined on the floor by the bed. And for some reason, all I could think of was the little saying my father taught me as a girl. "Red sky at night, sailor's delight. Red sky in morning, sailors take warning." It kept playing over and over in my head like a mantra, and it was as relentless as a telemarketer. Perhaps it was a preminition, one I chose to ignore of course, because I have always been much too stubborn to place faith in anything that cannot be explained by experiments and hypothesis. Maybe it was my own woman's intuition screaming at me. But nonetheless, I brushed it off and returned to Vegeta's bed, to wake him with a loving kiss, and a month and a half later, that morning's feeling of foreboding returned to me full force, and then there was no way to brush it of and return to bed.**
-Excerpt from the Journals of Bulma Briefs, 796 AD.