Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Someone to watch over me... ❯ He was there wasn't he ( Chapter 7 )

I don't own DBZ so please don't sue me!!!


Someone to Watch over me....

Bulma shivered in Vegeta's arms as they made their way back to the mansion through the downpour of rain. Vegeta's inner voice was waging war once again with his sub conscious over the blue haired onna that still clung to him. He breathed a sigh of relief that he was able to get to her before anything bad had happened. Filling his lungs with her intoxicating scent of jasmine and lavender mixed with her unique scent of her own, he closed his eyes holding her tighter to him. Another scent caught his attention, one that he was all too familiar with, blood. His stomach dropped when his mind finally registered the smell to his brain. He took off his suit jacket, trying not to disturb her and wrapped it around her shoulders to lessen the trembling in her body from the coolness of the air and the lack of clothing she was in. All the while he did not see her angelic face that still lay buried in his chest, her hair falling down all around in tangles. Slowly the scenery became familiar, as they got closer to the mansion. The gate slowly opened allowing Tien to pull up the long and winding drive to the front door. Both Goku and Tien exited the limo first and came around and open the door to get Bulma out along with Vegeta.

"Here give her to me, I'll take her upstairs." Goku said extending his arms out to take her from the Saiyan prince.
"Just get the door Kakarott, I got her." He spat out as he lifted her into his strong arms and got out of the limo following Goku into the house.
"Oh Kami what happened?" ChiChi squealed when she saw Bulma looking in shambles. Little Gohan came running from the kitchen when he heard his mother's voice in panic.
"She's alright Chi, just had some pandemonium at the club and we got separated for a few minutes." Vegeta frowned at Goku's statement, if he wasn't having a hard time concentrating it wouldn't of happened, but he wasn't going to tell them that. Not wanting to stick around for the chatter, Vegeta climbed the stairs taking Bulma to her bedroom for the night.

"Onna, which one is your room?"
"End of the hall." She whispered as she slowly lifted her head to answer him. Vegeta never lost the pace in his steps; before she could look he was opening the door to her room. He carefully sat her down on the edge of the bed before he pried her arms from around his neck. She whimpered slightly with the loss of contact. She looked up at him through the tangles of blue hair that fell in her eyes. Vegeta frowned and brushed her hair out of the way and noticed the source of the familiar scent from the limo. Her supple bottom lip was cracked and swollen, the blood staining her chin.
"He was there wasn't he?"
"I'm not going to lie to you onna, he could have been." She nodded her head, letting her eyes go back to the floor.
"Now do you understand why I'm here? Things are going to change around here, no more of this shit you pulled tonight."
"I can't live locked up in my house for the rest of my life. I have a important show tomorrow night, a trip to film a video in two weeks, and the most important thing in my life right now coming in two months."
"And I will be there every step of the way, you don't have to be locked up here as long as you pay attention and follow my rules."
"Your rules? Shit I'm not going to be able to do anything I want then. Do I actually need a guard outside my bathroom door every time I have to pee? I don't want this to interferer with my life."
"Follow them and live, deviate and die. Your choice onna. Might want to clean up that lip. It's making you more hideous then before." She brought the tips of her fingers up to her lip and brushed them against the cut realizing it could have been worse. She could be dead in a morgue someplace in Satan City if it wasn't for him.
"Thank you." She said under her breath making Vegeta strain to hear her even with his sensitive hearing as she turned her back to him. She felt his strong hand on her shoulder as it gave her a slight squeeze.
"Rest, I rather you not be rude and bitchy tomorrow." Bulma snorted as she heard him leave her room with out another exchange of insults.

Vegeta made his way down the stairs quietly, with wishful thinking on his mind that the younger saiyan and the rest of the bakas had gone to bed.
"Vegeta, your shirt." Vegeta took a quick look at the front of him to see his crisp white shirt stained with the blue haired tenshi's blood, from collar to breast pocket.
"Oh well Kakarott." Vegeta ripped the shirt off with the buttons flying in all directions.
"Oh well? Her blood is on your clothes and you say oh well?" Piccolo hissed loudly from across the room.
"She's not hurt you bakas! Just a tiny cut, now quit your whining." The loud clatter of the front door being slamming shut jolted the bodyguards' attention away from their petty bickering. A very wet Yamcha stomped into the living room confronting them all.

"What the hell were you guys thinking back there at the club? Leaving me high and dry like that. Where the hell is she? Is she alright?" He shouted.
"High and wet is more like it. Don't worry about her, she's just fine with out you keeping secrets from her." Vegeta commented with a smirk.
"You son of a bitch!" Yamcha bellowed out before he swung a fist at the unsuspecting saiyan. Vegeta ducked the fist bringing his own barreling into Yamcha's stomach knocking the wind out of him.
"Next time you will tell me in advance of plans and places. She could have been killed tonight because of this spur of the moment bullshit."
"But she wasn't, if she don't sing and she don't dance she has nothing, she's good as dead then. You do your job and she'll do hers. What she was doing tonight was her job remember that. It won't change any time soon." Vegeta growled loudly, his coal black eyes burning into Yamcha.
"Here, keep this as a souvenir then. You tell me if that shit was worth it now." Vegeta threw the blood shirt towards Yamcha before he climbed the stairs to his room next to Bulma's. Yamcha's eyes widen as he saw the blood and tear stains on the shirt he was holding. Goku shook his head and left the room with Piccolo following.

Bulma laid in her bed holding the suit jacket Vegeta had draped over her shoulders in the limo. She ran a delicate finger over the expensive material, taking in the scent of Vegeta. She had to admit that he did smell so wonderful it was like being in a euphoric dream. Maybe he wasn't all bad like she thought he was. He was the one that came out of the crowd scooping her up into his powerful arms, holding her tight from harm. He had been the only one to let her cry that hard on anyone's shoulder in a very long time. She began to cry again, this time she cried because she was alive and well in her own bed. Safe only because of the cocky saiyan prince next door to her.

Vegeta laid in his bed, staring at the ceiling running the nights events through his head once again. His mind screaming at him for breaking all the rules in less then five minutes.
"I let her out of my sight, I let my guard down, and shit I think I'm fallin hard for her damn it. I can't do that, I can't! I can't and I won't take a pathetic mate from this mudball of a planet!" He pounded his fists into the bed. He couldn't force the images of her body out of his head no matter how hard he tried. The sway in her hips capturing his eyes, her long sexy legs under the short leather skirt, the black leather corset cinched tight around her small waist, the small bounce of her swollen bossism. He knew sleep wasn't going to come easy at all for him with the scent of the woman still smothering him. He sighed loudly as he got up from his bed slipping on his favorite black silk boxers before he opened the bedroom door to once again check the security of the whole mansion. He closed his door quietly, his bare feet padding softly against the imported hallway rug, when his ears caught the soft sobbing of the onna again. He stopped, mentally yelling at himself for even stopping and caring for her and walked back to her door listening for a minute. Before he knew exactly what he was doing, he had opened the door and walked in almost un-noticed. Bulma still laid on the bed crying with her back to the door, but Barney picked his head up to look at the visitor that entered. His feet taking him where he shouldn't be, his mind screaming at him, he sucked in a breath when he noticed she was still wearing the outfit she had on at the 'Fallen Angel'. The leather skirt was now riding high on her creamy smooth thighs.

"Onna?" His voice smooth and light as silk on a spring breeze called to her. She continued to cry as he approached the bed looking down on her. She had his suit jacket in her arms tightly, the tears falling one by one on it. He looked closer and notice she was not awake, she was crying in her sleep. It had looked like she just fell into bed after he left, her clothes still on, her knee-high boots unzipped but still on. She didn't even clean her cut on her lip, the blood still on her chin blemishing her perfect completion. He debated if he should leave her in that condition or get Kakarott's mate to come clean and dress her. He walked to the bathroom and got a damp towel, he decided he'd do the job; it was the least he could do for not keeping her from the crowds' fury.

Barney watched intently as Vegeta washed away the blood on her face gently without waking her. He tried to smile, but it came out as a lopsided smirk. He found what looked like sleepwear for her, a large tee shirt and some cotton boxers that seemed to be almost too big for her slight frame. He forced himself not to look at her as he undressed her from the uncomfortable leather one piece at a time. By the time he had her skirt and corset off his arousal was straining against his boxers, he had to hurry and get himself out of there before he did something he would regret the rest of his life. Take a mate from this planet. He fumbled as he slipped the shirt over her head and one by one prying her hands free from his jacket to place through the armholes of the shirt.

"She had to wear a thong didn't she?" He groaned as he slipped the boxers up her legs, his fingers sliding on her warm flesh. With his job now complete he peeled back her sheets and comforter and covered her. He ran the back of his fingers down her tear stained cheek still feeling the moisture upon them.
"I won't let you out of my site, I won't let my guard down again, but I can't fall in love with you onna." He brushed his lips against her forehead, letting them linger more then he should of before slipping back out of her room going to his to take a very, very cold shower.