Surviving Together: Retribution

Chapter 8 - Indiscretion

"Bulma," Vegeta whispered as he rested his head atop his late mate's tomb. Tracing the etching of her name with his fingertips, he softly spoke to her grave, "How betrayed you must feel." He could not bear thinking of the situation in reverse, seeing her turn to another man barely one year after his death. Regardless of how deeply appearances deceived, it made his blood boil. How could a widower find another woman so enticing so quickly?

"I am at a loss for what to do. I want no other woman but you, and yet, Atae is you in every way imaginable. I am drawn to her as if she is you. How can I resist such a temptation?" He felt guilty asking her such a question, as if his actions could ever be justified, as if the lust he felt could ever be explained. He could not deny how harsh the sting of loneliness struck him every night he returned to an empty bed. Is it so wrong to desire companionship once again? A mother for his son?

Yes. Of course it was. To welcome another woman into his life would be to forget the one woman who saved him, healed his heart, gave him reason to fight for survival and, most undeservingly, gave him a son. His heir, all he had left of her. "It should have been me, woman." His eyes fell shut as he relived the memory for the thousandth time…

"Vegeta, no!" Bulma's lips became freed as Cooler removed his hand so he could give the Emperor the means to his defeat.

"Wise choice," Cooler conceded, ignoring Bulma's objection, and throwing the Raiji tablet towards Vegeta.

The former Saiya-jin no ouji raised his hand to catch the pill, but it strangely never made it to him. "What the-" Vegeta felt his heart stop as he realized Bulma had snatched the capsule almost immediately after Cooler had released it.

Both Cooler and Vegeta had been too disoriented by the woman's sudden move for either of them to stop what was about to happen next. "I will not let you unleash hell on our son and this entire universe just to protect me, Vegeta," Bulma cried her intentions before swallowing the pill herself. It did not take more than a few seconds before her body went limp within Cooler's arms.

Time seemed to stop as Vegeta watched the helpless form of his mate collapse ungracefully onto the ground. Within a split second, Vegeta was on his knees, next to his mate, taking her lifeless body into his arms after Cooler had ever so sullenly dropped her. "Bulma!" Vegeta cried her name again in a vain hope she would awaken. "You will not leave me again!" he ordered before continuing to talk to her unresponsive body while furiously shaking her. "Damn it, woman," he cursed hopelessly, "I can't do this alone. The boy, our son, he needs you. I need you. Wake up, Bulma!" Even as his pleas continued, he received no answer. The alien tears that began to fall down his cheeks could not bring her to open her eyes. He growled, enraged by the bitter twist of fate that had befallen him, no amount of his pleading could reanimate her, just as no feeling of console could heal his pain.

"Damn it! How could I have been so foolish?!" his hand stopped just short of pounding down on the tomb. He would never forgive himself for letting Cooler outsmart him, or being so narrowly focused that he had left his mate with no other choice than to sacrifice her life to right what he knew would have been a mistake. "Never will I forgive myself." The vow sounded hollow as he slowly pushed himself to his feet. "I do not deserve a moment's peace when I have cost you your life. I do not deserve another woman to ease my pain. And you, Bulma, do not deserve my betrayal." He leaned down to kiss the marbled covering before pulling away regretfully. Departing from the mausoleum, Vegeta closed the door while taking a long breath. He knew what he had to do. He had to send Atae away. This evening had been a mistake. He would have to rectify it as soon as she arrived, if she arrived.

Glancing at a nearby clock, Vegeta narrowed his eyes slightly. 'She's already half an hour late; perhaps she too had second thoughts.' He hoped so. It would certainly make matters easier for him. But no sooner did Vegeta allow himself a moment to relax under the prospect than he heard a knock at his door. With a quick forming frown, Vegeta approached the entrance. Silently preparing a speech that would send her away with as few questions as possible, he opened the door.

The moment their eyes met, all thoughts of lies and departures vanished from Vegeta's mind. "I'm sorry I am late, Radditz returned to our chambers later than I had expected." The swelling of her eyes and the blotchiness of the skin underneath immediately alerted him to the probability that she had just come from a dispute. Though he was tempted to ask about what had transpired, he refrained as his body stepped aside to allow her access to his chambers, ignoring his conscience telling him to be rid of this woman before matters grew too seriously out of hand. But it seemed he could no sooner cancel their evening than forget about his mate. How could he pass up the chance to stare into those eyes for hours uninterrupted?

"It is not a problem," he answered casually as he guided her over to a table that he had had arranged for their interlude, earlier this morning. It was elegantly dressed but not in a romantic vein, as Vegeta had insisted. He did not want to give her any false impressions. After pulling a seat out for his guest, the former prince walked around the table and, like an entranced zombie, never tore his eyes from hers as he took a seat himself.

Swallowing wholly, Bulma kept her eyes anywhere but on her host as she pretended to be interested in the decor of the room. It was very dark and painfully simplistic. Aside from the setup he clearly added for this evening, the gothic styled room had nothing more than a bed and a few small stands with a drawer or two. It was clearly a man's room, absent of a female touch. A consideration that made her swarm with empathy, and perhaps a little less hostility towards the awkward position he had forced her into. "I do not suppose you have any alcohol?" she had finally asked after what had felt like an hour-long staring contest. He was not making any effort to talk to her; it seemed he simply wanted to stare.

Snapping out of his daze, her request slowly registered with Vegeta. With a sudden boisterous laugh, he rose from his seat to fulfill her desire. "So you wish to be inebriated for the evening?" he mocked while opening a bottle of imported wine. Though in the past the proud warrior had never dared pollute his body with the drug, since Bulma's death he had found himself relishing the oblivion overindulgence brought. "Aren't you afraid I may take advantage of you? You know, because I could easily mistake you for my mate?" he used her assumptions against her to poke mild fun. He sensed she was worried his intentions for inviting her were not as pure as he proclaimed. But, then again, perhaps they were not.

"No actually," Bulma answered with a composure that seemed to impress her companion for the evening. "Thank you," she accepted the glass he offered and immediately placed it upon the table in front of her. Though she did not intend to actually drink any of its contents, considering she was still nursing her daughter, she had hoped the jested request would serve as an icebreaker to the uncomfortable situation. Her plan seemed to work. "Garock informed me earlier that you are the most chivalrous of men. He assured me I would have nothing to worry about." The advisor had been very helpful in setting all of her worries at ease this morning. He had given her ample insight as to her date's character. "He told me the circumstances of how you and your mate came together; he painted you as quite the knight in shining armor." Though she had meant the comment in praise, the almost angered shift in his disposition proved he had not taken it in such a light manner.

Swallowing a large gulp of his drink, Vegeta returned to his seat with a heavy scowl upon his face. "Then he has filled you with an abhorrently falsified account," he replied testily, mentally reminding himself to have a word with Garock later about his personal life, and how it was not for public knowledge. "All I did was guard her virtue for a limited duration of time. I was just as helpless as she was during the reign of Freeza. I deserve no praise for my insufficient protection."

"It sounds like you are too hard on yourself," Bulma offered softly. She did not know all the details surrounding the events of his past, but seeing how blatant his regard for the woman was, it was easy to assume his protection was as ample as he could have offered under the circumstances. "Your love for her is overtly apparent. Devoting all of your time obsessing over the moment of her death unfairly steals the honor from all her years of life. Perhaps you should think about that while you are spending so much time regretting the blemishes of your past with her."

Flinching as if he had just been struck, Vegeta wondered briefly if this woman was telepathic. How could she be so aware of his feelings when he voiced them to no one? How could she offer advice that he knew in his heart was reflective of the same guidance Bulma would have offered him? "You have no right to speak as if you know me or my mate." He had not meant to lash out at her so scornfully, but he had never been faced with the feeling of such vulnerability before any other living being than his lost love.

"My apologies then," Bulma took a deep breath as she lowered her eyes in regret. She was not certain what had caused her to speak so candidly about things she knew nothing about, but strangely, in that moment, she felt as if she was intimately acquainted with his predicament. As if his pain was so familiar to her, as if she understood what he had lived through, making some part of her feel compelled to comfort him, to help him heal from wounds she knew nothing about; how unnatural a compulsion for a mated woman. "Look," Bulma shook her head as she rose from her seat, "I am beginning to think this was a bad idea. Maybe we should just call it a night."

Her quick retreat wrenched Vegeta to his feet as he moved to follow her. She could not leave, at least not yet. Though the compulsion was erratic, he knew he had to keep her here, with him, regardless of whether or not she was his to keep, "Atae!" She seemed to respond to his call immediately as she stopped dead in her tracks. However, the sudden stiffness of her back immediately alerted him that something else had invoked her response. Walking closer, he quickly realized what had distracted her.

"Oh my god," Bulma whispered shakily as she grasped the photo of herself and Trunks that had been sitting on a stand right next to the door. She could not believe her eyes. "When you said I looked like her I thought you meant resembled or-I never thought-She's me-" The conclusion had been offered thoughtlessly as she looked upon her host with an apologetic expression. "No wonder you wanted to spend time with me, how easily you could forget..."

Taking the photo from her hand, Vegeta neatly set the picture back in its place. "You are mistaken," he assured her after turning his gaze from the picture of Bulma with Trunks sitting on her lap. The memory had been captured not three full days before her death. She was placing a kiss on the boy's cheek, much to his embarrassment, as they sat together watching a sparring match. She had been so full of joy those few short days they had spent together before she was taken; how cruel the universe was, to dangle happiness before her and then so callously snatch it away. "I will never forget that my mate is dead." His tone was scathing; it was so unfair that this woman had to come into his life, reminding him every minute of what he had lost.

"Then why am I here?" she challenged his claim. The resemblance was flawless; even she had to admit that. Without his complete understanding that she and his deceased mate were two completely separate people, this little dinner he had planned would only be the beginning of his attempts to trick his mind into believing she was what he wanted her to be, his mate. But she could not allow him to fall under the power of such a myth; she had a mate and daughter to consider. She had to break him away from this insanity.

"You know, that is a very good question." She was right of course, he did want her with him, because she reminded him of his mate, tempted him with the possibility of no longer being miserable and alone. But he could not tell her that, not when he could not even admit it to himself. So he had to deflect the inquiry. "Why are you here? You told me prior to making the offer that you believed your mate strong enough to best me, so why agree to a bargain that would grant you no real gain?"

Her bottom lip fell open slightly; he had corned her with a question she dared not answer. She believed Radditz could beat him in battle; there was no necessity to her dissolving the match, so why had she come? She feared this man already knew. "You are right. I have no reason to be here." She spat coldly in an attempt to flee the scene before any further embarrassment could ensue. She was not aloud to escape, however, as he slammed his strong hand against the door, barring her exit and trapping her back against his firm torso.

"You are unhappy with Radditz," he whispered in her ear the answer he knew she dared not speak. Inhaling her scent huskily, he slowly dragged his left hand that was not blocking the door up the front of her chest before resting it against her heated right cheek. Twisting her face to meet his, he slowly concluded, "And you are attracted to me." Surprisingly his voice held no egotism. He was simply stating the facts as he saw them.

Slowly closing her eyes, Bulma wished to hide her lust, but it seemed it was too late. He knew, and he expected her to acknowledge it to him. She would not. This evening was spinning out of control. She had to stop it; she had to stop him by making him see the truth, "And what about your attraction to me?" A mixture of anger and frustration filled her voice, anger at her body's weakness and frustration for not being free to give into it. "When you look at me, does you blood boil and your loins tense because you see your mate, or because you see me, a woman who will never fill your love's shoes."

It was a hard question to answer, especially since he had just confessed to never having the power to erase the memory of his mate. But he could not deny the passion he felt for this stranger. He knew too little of her for it to be any more than lust, but something inside him argued that what he was feeling was more than lust. But he would not accept that. No woman but Bulma ever invoked feelings stronger than infatuation within him. Certainly this replica could not. "I do not deny I have thought of tearing your cloths off and examining you more intimately to see just how like my mate you really are, but my attraction to you is no more than skin deep."

She should have been offended. She should have felt as though a cold bucket of water had been dumped upon her as he told her pointblank that she was a pretty face to him, nothing more. But the insult did not seem to register properly. Her mind could not move past the image of him tearing her cloths off, the feel of his warm body pressing against hers, the powerful hand that caressed her face, and his hot breath against her cheeks. This was passion. A year without the sensation made it all the more transparent now. Her body was being pulled towards this man, unconcerned with logic's warning, and as she quickly realized, powerless to ignore it.

Their lips were upon each other's, neither certain who had initiated the kiss, but both willingly partaking in it. Twisting her body around so she was flush against him, Bulma had voiced no complaints, as her feet were suddenly no longer touching the ground, her body being thrust up against the door behind her. Wrapping her legs around his trim waist, she dug her fingers into the abyss that was his chaotic hair. He tasted as good as he felt. "This is wrong." Though deep down inside she knew she did not mean it, she felt obligated to force it out during the few short seconds he had pulled away to allow her breath. It was so hard to think clearly while his fingers were running up her shirt, his clear destination her breasts.

"You're right," he agreed with an almost wicked smirk upon his lips as he wrapped his arms around her torso and carried her over to his bed. "We should be doing this in comfort." Dropping her ungracefully onto the mattress he crawled over of her until he was straddling her hips. Kneeling above her, he pulled his shirt over his head before returning to the lust filled woman beneath him.

He was perfect, the passionate woman quickly realized as she ran her shaky fingers over his flawlessly chiseled physique. With her lips she kissed a slow trail from his abdomen all the way to his neck, stopping only momentarily over his heart, feeling the pounding of the organ. He wanted her, and she could feel it in more places than one. Unbinding her hair, she let her long tresses cascade over her upper body, a blatant invitation for him to forge on. Lifting her arms, she allowed him the freedom of removing her shirt.

Vegeta was pleased to discover she had chosen not to wear a bra. Perhaps she had been hoping for this? Cupping her heavy mounds in the palms of his hands, Vegeta felt his stomach tighten. Same feel as Bulma, pert and swollen. He pressed his lips over one, sucking, nipping, and massaging each as her back arched towards him in eagerness. Same taste as Bulma. Same reaction as Bulma. Same moan as Bulma. Was he truly losing his mind?

Trying desperately to ignore the possibility, Vegeta continued with his ministrations. His body did not seem to care, as he continued paying heed to her breasts and then began to take the liberty of allowing his hands to start eliminating their pants; his mind held serious reservation about what he was doing. Too many questions still were not answered, too many uncertainties were being disregarded, but none of that matter the moment they were each stripped completely, leaving only their sweat-drenched bodies to grind against one another.

The dance they joined in seemed rehearsed, as if they were already infinitely familiar with what was to come between them. Sliding between her legs, Vegeta's actions were the result of nothing more than instinct as he plunged desperately inside of her warmth. Not asking for her permission, or even looking into her eyes to see if she was still as overcome by lust as he was, at that moment, his body completely overpowered his senses as it recognized where its place was. So tight, so secure, so familiar, as if he was finally returning home. "Bulma," he groaned with his eyes closed, an unconscious reaction to the sheer recognition of her feel. It was her, his mate, the mother of his child, Bulma. At that moment, every fiber of his being knew it to be true.

"Vegeta," the soft reverberation of her true mate's name echoed from her lips as her body expanded to accommodate his size. He fit perfectly. His every stroke rocked to precision. He had a familiarity with her body that only two lovers could develop over time. It seemed unfathomable that she could find such oneness with a total stranger. A stranger, no, this was not a stranger. He was too warm, too welcoming, too recognized by her body. Closing her eyes she threw her head back as the sound of his voice echoed through her ears, Bulma. He kept repeating it; he was calling her by another woman's name, he was doing what she had feared, trying to deceive his mind into believing she was someone she could never be. "Vegeta, st-" Her fingers fell limp against his chest before she could push him away. Crying in delight, her body convulsed as he brought her to a state of mindless bliss.

"Yes," Vegeta grunted as released his seed into her womb. Collapsing atop of her, he only remained crushing her under his body weight for a few moments before he rolled to his side, taking her figure softly with him. Looking down finally to see the thunderstruck woman's chest heaving, her eyes closed, and her lips trembling, his worries were quickly squelched. She had needed this as much as he did, perhaps even more, he surmised while running his fingertips through her damp hair.

Regret for his actions were not to be felt that evening as he tightly pressed her body to his. He would not allow reason to steal this moment from him. Wrapping his arms more tightly around his partner, Vegeta glanced down to see she had already allowed sleep to overtake her, Vegeta sighed contently as he permitted himself to follow. Though he knew tomorrow would bring much grief and turmoil, he would savor the time he had right now, his first moment of peace in the last year.

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Author's Note: Hmmm… It seems Bulma and Vegeta have 'reconsummated' their relationship. What will it mean tomorrow morning? Will there be regrets? Will the possibility that Bulma and 'Atae' are one and the same woman finally be a consideration for Vegeta? And what about Radditz? Will he be pissed to find his 'mate' never returned the night prior? I think that's a pretty safe bet, but to find out the rest, you need to tune in next time!