Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ The Dark Duke ❯ When it Rains... ( Chapter 4 )

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

Disclaimer: I do not own DBZ, or the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Warnings: Cussing.

A/N: I know I promised to reveal Goku's origins in this chapter, but honestly, this part got away from me, and so it will have to be next chapter where we get some answers. Hopefully this chapter will appease anyone hoping to start a mob riot over my unintentional lie.

Love to my reviewers, as usual, and for those of you who were asking, there will be some more characters from the DBZ/DB universe throughout the story. It's more fun that way.

Chapter Four: When It Rains...

The next morning, Bulma was awake much earlier than usual, though Ôawake' was a relative term. Yes, she was out of bed, yes, she was dressed, yes, she was sitting at the breakfast table, yes, she had a fork in her hand loaded with food--but no sane human being would call her awake.

Her eyes were barely open, and she kept nodding her head, barely catching herself from falling asleep in her breakfast more than a half dozen times in the last five minutes. She could not even bring herself to bring the fork the six inches to her mouth, as chewing seemed beyond impossible right now. Hell, even holding the fork seemed like the hardest task ever, and Bulma could not help but keep sighing at the food rather than eating it.

When a scullery maid entered the room with a fresh pot of coffee, Bulma perked up just enough to motion for some, staring greedily as her cup was filled, before slugging it down, and motioning for more once again. Coffee was currently her favorite thing ever, and she would gladly give up one of her limbs for more of it.

Bulma Briefs was not, and would never be, a morning person. She was much more of a burn the midnight oil type, preferring to stay up late in the night and watching the sunrise--rather than waking up early to see it. But here she was, before anyone else in the household it seemed, trying to eat a forkful of food. But the coffee had not seemed to take a hold of her yet, and the fork was still ridiculously heavy. Bulma finally gave up on the fork, and instead reached for a piece of fruit, reasoning that she could eat that much easier, as no utensils were involved.

While Bulma was picking up a small orange, her father entered the room, whistling as he took his seat at the head of the table, opening his paper, ruffling it, before he froze, shook the paper closed, and looked over at his daughter, his blue eyes wide as he took her in, a long whistle escaping his lips.

If Bulma were awake, she would have smirked, knowing her fathers shock stemmed from seeing her here at the breakfast table--something that she had not done in years. But she was not awake, and so she did not notice her fathers stare as she concentrated on the orange, trying to figure out how to get the peel off of the exceedingly stubborn fruit. She finally jerked her head up from the fruit when her father's worried voice caught her attention, "Bulma dear, are you all right?"

Bulma looked up from the very ineffectual peel job she was attempting, frowning at the orange, before looking up at her father, who was sitting at the opposite end of the very long table, frowning at him too, "of course father, why do you ask?"

Dr. Briefs peered at her, but only smiled when he saw nothing glaringly obvious wrong with her, before he opened his paper again, his voice muffled as he spoke from behind it. "Just wondering if there was a particular reason you decided to grace us with your presence before noon."

Bulma only scowled at her father (though she knew he could not see her), thinking about why she was awake so Kami-awfully early. It was not because she had gone to bed early, that was for sure. She had been up late, worrying about Goku, waiting until the whole house was asleep before slipping into his room, seeking him out, making sure he was okay. The night before, at dinner, he had barely eaten his thirds, which for Goku was a miracle in and of itself, and she could not help but try to make sure he was okay. So she had gone to his room, offering him comfort.

They had stayed up late, talking about the future, about what finding out the truth about his past would entail, and what would happen if (not when) he went to England. Bulma had known Goku long enough to realize that he was...not scared, she had never seen Goku scared, but she knew he did not want to go to England by himself, or with this Vegeta character. So Bulma had thought of a plan, a way to make sure he would not have to.

She doubted she could completely extract him from the Duke's clutches (her plan to bolt in the night was shot down with a smile from Goku, though she had been partially serious), but she would use all of her wits to make sure that Goku did not end up alone, at the mercy of the British prig. So they had thought, talked, and planned, and finally reached something in the wee hours of the morning.

Which had entailed Bulma waking up early, so she could catch her father and talk to him, alone, putting her plan into motion. She just had not realized how hard it was to actually do anything when she was this sleepy. Everything had seemed so much easier last night, but now, as the harsh daylight streamed through the windows.... She could barely peel the orange she wanted to eat, let alone make coherent sentences.

She finally got a few pieces of the orange free from its peel, a satisfied smile on her face as she plopped them in her mouth, closing her eyes with the sweet taste of victory. She then frowned again, as her eyes popped open, when she realized she was taking pride from the fact that she had peeled a fruit that a two-year old could. She looked down at her plate, and sighed when she saw she had only gotten a few slices of the fruit in her mouth, the rest a juicy mess on her hands and plate.

She definitely was not a morning person.

Maybe now would not be the best time to talk to her father--but what other options did she have? Once the turtle hermit and his sister were here, Vegeta had made it clear that the second he had the information he wanted, him, and most likely Goku, would be gone. She was not sure when she would get the opportunity to talk to her father alone again, and she needed his cooperation for the plan to work.

But she had to admit, in the morning, she was having second thoughts about going through with what she so easily promised Goku last night. In fact, she might have been using sleepiness as an excuse for not yet bringing up her plan to her father, because there were certain...factors...that made it hard for her to imagine going through with the plan. But she kept thinking of her brother, reminding herself that this was for him. And for her, because she did not want to lose Goku.

So Bulma made her decision (tentatively) to talk to her dad, and tried to remember the speech she had planned last night, to convince her father to go along with her plan--but found herself at a loss as to what her carefully planned words were. She let out a sigh, and finally looked her father in the eye--only to find the paper was still covering his face, and she frowned. How could she sweet talk her father into doing what she wanted if he could not see her puppy dog eyes?

She was just ruminating on an plan of action to get him to put the newspaper down (and do exactly what she wanted) when his voice came to her over the paper, "you're not awake so early because its Thursday, are you?"

Bulma blinked, slow on the uptake, wondering what was so special about Thursday. When the synapses in her sleep-deprived brain finally fired, she bolted upright, staring at her father, suddenly alert, "It's Thursday?"

Dr. Briefs folded the top half of the paper to meet her eye, his usual smile on his face, "indeed, it is." He paused, reaching for his coffee and taking a sip, before he continued, "Goku's sparring partner usually arrives in the next half hour or so. So anyone who would want to meet him, maybe surprise him, should probably head to the stables."

Bulma stood from her chair, suddenly very awake as a large smile split her face. She caught her father's speculative eye, and she fought the blush the she felt creeping onto her cheeks as she spoke, "I think I'll just...go for a walk. Check on Moonshine."

Dr. Briefs chuckled, sliding the paper back up, "of course. Your horse often asks for you this early in the morning."

But Bulma missed the sardonic edge to his voice, as she was too busy reasoning with herself. She needed to talk to Yamcha, Goku's long time sparring partner, for her plan to work anyways. Especially as he was the biggest reason she doubted her plan today. She needed to talk to him, make sure it would be okay if she were not here. She wanted him to know that just because she was gone, did not mean that their plans for the future were changed.

She needed to make him understand why she was doing this, so she needed to talk to him alone. Once Goku and Yamcha started to fight, it would be impossible to get him alone, so this was the only opportunity she would have to speak to him one on one. Her father, on the other hand, lived here, and he was not going anywhere. She could talk to him about her plan whenever. So it was settled. She would talk to Yamcha first--her father could wait.

Still, before she completely left the room, she made sure to tell her dad, "I'll only be gone a few minutes. I need to have a private audience with you when I get back."

Her father met her eye, and seeing her determined glint (one he was very used to), gave her a nod, before the paper was back up, a barrier between the pair of them.

But Bulma was already gone from the room, hurriedly taking the path down to the stables, knowing that Yamcha would have to ride there first before he came to the house for his and Goku's usual match up. She could head him off there, and maybe get a private minute or two alone with him.

She knew he was not going to like the plan her and Goku had settled on, as it would mean they would not get the winter months together, like they usually did. But this was for her brother, and she was sure once she explained the full plan to Yamcha, she hoped he would understand. Especially as giving up the few months they had together seemed harder and harder the more she thought about it. She only increased her speed to get to him faster, knowing that if she did put her plan into action, she would have to treasure every precious moment she would have with Yamcha.

Bulma finally made it into the stables, but frowned when she found it completely deserted, wondering how long she would have to wait for Yamcha to show up. She was an impatient woman (one of her few faults, she ceded), and she did not like waiting for him. By herself, in the empty, looming stables.

Where was Yamcha, and where were the stable hands?

She shrugged, realizing that in the mornings she had not a single clue what the stables were like. When she appeared for her afternoon ride, they were bustling with activity--but maybe the mornings were a quieter time? Well, at least she could talk to Yamcha alone here...once he actually showed up.

She sighed, before walking over to her private stall in the back where the love of her life, her horse, Moonshine, stood, her silver hide shining. Bulma quickly grabbed a carrot from a sitting carrier bag, and walked over. Moonshine came to her immediately, munching on the carrot as Bulma ran her hands along her horses smooth mane. She had just been brushed, and as Bulma ran her ungloved hand along her silky hide, she found herself lost in thought.

The Bandit's, Yamcha's family, had lived in this area much longer than the Briefs had, and Goku and Yamcha, though four years apart, had become sparring partners almost as soon as the Briefs had built their winter residence outside of the city. Bulma and Yamcha had been shy around each other at first (well Yamcha had been shy around all girls at that point), but as Yamcha had continued to come over to fight with Goku, they had grown more comfortable with each other, and slowly but surely they had built a relationship of sorts together.

It had been a slow start to a relationship, but they had been together for a couple of years now. At social events in the area he always danced attendance on her, and filled her dance card with his name, while calling on her for tea every few days (or whenever him and Goku sparred). Though, she had to admit, as the years had passed, and his shyness towards girls had faded, Yamcha had not been as attentive to her as he had always been.

But she only got like this when he was not around--once Yamcha was focused on her, all of her doubts about just who he was flirting with, or who he had been talking to, and dancing with, were gone. He made her feel so special.... Recently he had been hinting that he was going to be asking for her hand soon, and Bulma got all dreamy thinking about being married.

Bulma was pulled from her musings about Yamcha when she heard a noise coming from an empty stall across from Moonshine's. Bulma stilled her hand from stroking Moonshine, frowning in the direction of the stall. As silence reined, she shook her head, wondering if she had imagined the sound (on account of it being still super early) when she heard it again, louder this time. Very definitely she had heard a rustle, and if she was not mistaken, the sound of a giggle.

Bulma's curiosity got the better of her, and she abandoned Moonshine to walk over, creeping carefully along the hay-strewn ground, trying not to make any noise as she approached the stall. As she got closer she could make out whispering, and her natural curiosity took over, edging her closer to the seemingly empty stall. She had to wait a few moments, but then she heard a female voice she recognized as Winnie's, one of her chamber maids, whisper, "ohh, stop that, we're going to get caught."

The other voice, a male she did not recognize, though she could tell it was husky, answered Winnie, "no we're not. There's no one here. The stable boys are off, eating their breakfast, and no one from the house will be down here for hours."

Another rustle, another giggle, and Bulma strained to recognize the male's voice, but could not place it to anyone who worked on the Briefs' property. When the only sounds coming from the seemingly empty stable were the sounds of moaning, and slurping, Bulma turned to go, her cheeks blood red at catching two of the servants in the stables, embarrassed at the position her curiosity had put her in.

She was about to walk away, when her own name being spoken made her freeze to the very spot. Winnie's voice was sharp as she spoke next, "and what about Bulma?"

This time the male chuckled, "what about Bulma? She won't be up for hours yet. There's no way she would ever know about this."

Bulma felt all the blood leaving her face, as the chuckle made the male voice suddenly clear as day. But that was impossible--it could not be who she thought it was...could it?

But then there was another giggle, and all of her suspicions were confirmed as Winnie moaned, "oh Yamcha..."

As her worst fears were confirmed, Bulma felt sick, weak, and considered fleeing from the stable, so she could empty her stomach's contents just outside the doorway. But it was only for a moment that Bulma considered running, before her pride reared its head, her anger not far behind, making her feel reckless and invincible--a dangerous pair.

Bulma was barely cognizant as she found herself marching over to the "empty" stall, reaching in, opening it, and looking at the two dumbstruck lovers within it, her eyes freezing them to the spot. Before either could react, Bulma spoke low, a sure sign she was beyond angry, "Winnie, please remove yourself from the premises before noon, and seek employ elsewhere, and Yamcha..." she did not even bother to finish the sentence, only slamming the stall door closed, before turning, and storming away from the stall.

She stalked from the stables, uncaring of the sound of the pair moving behind her, Yamcha's voice floating after her as she practically ran back down the path she had just trod, "Bulma, wait..." but she did not stop. She only stomped away, her anger making her feel out of control.

As she got further from the stables, her anger, her embarrassment, and her disbelief warred within her, making her feel slightly sick. She pressed her palms to her closed eyes, trying to fight the tears that were threatening to spill from her eyes, hot and angry.

No man made Bulma Briefs cry!

When she heard the sound of heavy boots chasing after her, from the direction of the stables, Bulma panicked, wanting to put distance between herself and Yamcha. She considered running through the shortcut she knew that led to the house through the hedges, just wanting to get away.

But then Vegeta had rounded the corner behind the hedges, leading a horse, coming directly towards her, his body freezing as he saw her, stopping not five feet from where she currently stood. His black eyes clashed with her own blue ones, and Bulma felt her breath hitch as she saw how...fetching, he looked in his riding kit.

In a split second, Bulma made an impetuous decision, and ran to him, looking up at him, her eyes and voice pleading as she thought of a plan that would give her a modicum of her pride back. "For the love of Kami, play along with what I am about to do."

Vegeta's hands stiffened on the reins he held, as his voice came out low, "why?"

Bulma heard Yamcha fast approaching, and she quickly whispered, "Because my pride is on the line." She heard Yamcha turning the last bend to where they stood, only a few feet away, and without waiting for Vegeta's agreement, Bulma threw her hands on Vegeta's shoulders, and stood on her tiptoes to put her face even with his, before she very hurriedly pushed her lips against his. Though she was extremely worried about what she was doing, Bulma registered the instant spark she felt as her lips pressed against the Duke's (surprisingly) soft ones, and she had to fight not to lose herself in the unplanned kiss.

Vegeta had risen early that morning (as was his custom), still waiting for word from Nappa about what he had discovered in the village. Since Nappa had not returned late in the night, Vegeta could only assume the man had found either a fight to get his aggression out, or a woman to dull his passions with, and would not be seen until later in the morning.

Waiting in his room would prove fruitless (and maddening), so he had decided to eat some breakfast then go for a brisk ride, in yet another attempt to rid himself to the sensual demon the rest of the world knew as Bulma. His dreams had been filled with her, her soft hands, her silky skin and hair, her hot mouth, her tight...needless to say, he had woken up rather uncomfortable, and needing to flee his room.

As he had made his way downstairs to the breakfast room though, Vegeta had been surprised to see only Bulma sitting in the morning room, and he had found himself freezing on the stairs where he could see her but she could not see him. What was she doing here? Was she an early riser? He frowned as her head had plunged, before rocketing back up, and he realized she had almost fallen asleep in her chair. His grip had turned hard on the rail as his mind filled with lurid images of what had kept her up late last night. Her Ôbrother,' right?

So he had immediately changed his plans, and made his way straight to the stables so he could go on a ride, wanting to do nothing more than to pound the ground with hooves, riding rapid and hard. He had pushed his horse fast and far, but had come back a short time later when his stomach let him know he could not avoid eating any more.

Hopefully, by now, Bulma would not be in the morning room, so he could eat in peace, away from the lustful images that seemed to follow him whenever she was around. He should be completely and totally focused on the problem with Kakarrot, not worrying about some blue-hared girl, and yet...

He had just been leading his horse back to the stables when the very person he had been trying so hard to not think about had rounded the corner, looking as if she was running from something. As soon as their eyes had met, he had frozen to the spot, wondering what kind of spell this witch had over him as he felt his heart beat quicken.

When Bulma had run straight to him, he had been beyond surprised, and he took in her harried experience, her pale skin, her red cheeks, her parted lips. It did not take a genius to figure out that Bulma was distressed, but he had been shocked when she had come to him with her plea for help. She did not seem the type of woman who asked for help often, and he had been surprised by the strong desire that had come over him to do anything she asked.

He had tried to get out of it, distressed by the odd feelings going through him, but she had mentioned pride, and Vegeta felt something like understanding dawn on him. The emotion of pride was one he could understand very well, since he knew how important it could be. Before he could blink, though, she had pressed her lips to his, and he had been completely shocked, the meeting of their lips hitting him like a bolt of lightning.

The first sensation that hit him was taste, and though he kept his lips firmly closed, he could smell, and almost taste, the citrusy taste of fruit, an orange, perhaps, on her lips. Next was the realization of how soft her lips were against his firm mouth, and he had to fight the desire to open his mouth to hers, prompting her into a deeper kiss. Third, his eyes sought out her own, and he was confused when he saw they were wide open, looking straight into his, pleading, not closed with passion and lust.

After these three thoughts, he regained some control of his body, and his hands came up to grasp her waist, to push her away from him, but her claws tightened their grip on his shoulders, pulling her body flush against his. If he had thought desire had been coursing through his veins before, he was dead wrong. His blood turned into fire, his heart began beating faster then he though possible, his skin and clothes suddenly feeling way too tight for his body.

Vegeta was considering on following through the impulse he had to dig his fingers into her hips, pulling her groin to his, when he heard the sound of approaching footsteps. He flicked his eyes past Bulma to see an extremely startled young man, who was standing at the bend, watching the pair of them, before his scarred face became clouded with fury.

Seeing the young man coming towards them, Vegeta, without thought, broke the extremely chaste kiss, and placed himself between Bulma and the menacing man. The young man, scowled at this motion, but looked past Vegeta, straight at Bulma, "what the hell is this?"

Vegeta had to fight his surprise at seeing the man talk to the heiress like that, but then his eyes had narrowed as he took in the athletic build of the young man--was he another lover of this woman's? He had heard that American girls had looser morals...but two lovers, really? Should he really be that surprised when she had so willingly kissed him? He resisted the urge he had to turn to Bulma, and ask the same question scar-face had just asked.

But then he took in the furious way the man with the scars on his face had reacted to seeing Bulma kiss Vegeta, and it dawned on him that he was simply being used to make this man jealous. He resisted the urge to cock an eyebrow at the heiress, wondering what her game was.

Bulma moved from behind Vegeta, trying to remain angry, when she was more surprised with both the kiss, and how Vegeta had placed himself between her and Yamcha in what could only be called a protective gesture. Maybe he was only acting a part, but something about the quickness of the motion made her think he had done it on instinct.

She was not sure what to think about that, so she turned to Yamcha instead, her anger easy to understand and grab a hold of, "what does it look like Yamcha?"

Yamcha strode a few steps closer, though he broke off as he heard Vegeta snarl as he placed an arm out to keep Bulma back, stopping to take in the smaller man, "who the hell is this man, Bulma?"

Bulma frowned at Vegeta's arm, but turned her ire on her now ex-beau, "this is the Duke of Vegetasei." Bulma wanted to scream something else, something about Vegeta being her fiancŽ, but she held back that desire, knowing how quickly news traveled in this village. She would just have to be satisfied in knowing she was hitting a very sore spot of Yamcha's--he claimed he had not asked for her hand in marriage yet because of his ranking, though she now had to wonder if that was the real reason.... But that was beside the point. Yamcha hated that he was just the son of farmers, and to see his girl with a real live duke was sure to upset him. Good!

Yamcha's face had reddened as he had realized the short man was a Peer, and he began cracking his knuckles. "Yeah well, he was kissing my girl, and I don't care if he's the King of England--no one touches you but me Bulma."

Bulma scoffed at Yamcha, "I'm not your girl Yamcha. Or at least I wasn't five minutes ago when I saw your hand up Winnie's dress in the stable."

Yamcha blanched, looking past her, his voice weak, "I can explain..."

Bulma put her hand up, so angry she was seeing red, "no need to. Whatever we had is finished Yamcha."

Yamcha looked flabbergasted, but then he quickly swiveled to look at Vegeta, taking in the much smaller man, feeling his anger at his own stupidity at being caught transfer to this man in front of him. Bulma and him had been happy until this Duke, or whatever, had come onto the scene--it was obviously his fault that things had changed! Yamcha got into his fighting stance, before advancing "you're going to pay."

Bulma felt fear as she saw Yamcha bear down on Vegeta. Vegeta had a hidden strength, she realized, but Yamcha was a trained pugilist. He made money by beating up other men for a living, and Bulma did not want Vegeta to have to take a few punches for her. She quickly grabbed Vegeta's arm, turning him, "go, run. I can take care of this."

Something in Vegeta's eyes caused her to freeze, and she was absolutely shocked to see a devious smirk spread across his face, "hold the reins, please."

Bulma could only stare with her mouth open, and when she did not respond, Vegeta smoothly tucked the reins in her hands, before he quickly turned to the approaching Yamcha. So quickly, she could barely be sure of what she had seen, Vegeta cocked his fist back and punched Yamcha squarely in the face, a crunching sound heralding the breaking of some bones.

Bulma let out a gasp as she saw Vegeta turn back towards her, grabbing his horse's reins, before Yamcha had even finished hitting the ground. She stared wordlessly at Vegeta, surprised to see the smirk on his face turn into an unfiltered smile that transformed his whole face, as he cracked his knuckles, giving her a slight bow, before continuing towards the stables.

Bulma's mouth remained open as Vegeta disappeared around the bend, and she was finally drawn back to Yamcha when she heard him groan from the ground, where he was still lying prone, holding his nose, "I think my nose is broken!"

She stared at her ex-beau, before she let out a loud, "good!" She walked close enough to him that she could yell directly at his face, "and thanks for making my decision easier you asshole!" She then turned, walking back to the house, completely amazed at what she had just seen, but unable to stop herself from letting out a giggle as she relived the moment Yamcha's feet had gone flying over his head.

~~&~~
A/N: Their first kiss! Ha ha, I have to admit, not the most romantic of first kisses, but I had a great time writing this scene. I'm not a Yamcha hater, but he is a great catalyst for most Bulma/Vegeta stories, especially when I can write him as a bastard. Next time, answers (I'm not kidding this time!).