Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ The Dark Duke ❯ Gardening Advice ( Chapter 11 )

[ 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: This story has not been abandoned--I promise! December is always just a crazy month for me, and I knew I wouldn't be able to put up a chapter until January. But don't worry--even when I couldn't get to a computer, I would write down ideas/scenarios for the upcoming story. Sorry this chapter is shorter; I just wanted you guys to know that I still have big things ahead for Bulma and her Dark Duke, Vegeta!

Thank you to everyone who is still reading this, and big thank you to my reviewers. You have no idea what the power of a good review can do to me!

Chapter Eleven: Gardening Advice

After Bulma's...odd...encounter with Vegeta the afternoon of his arrival back in London, Bulma had done the honorable thing--by hiding in her room. Bulma was no fool, and she knew that Vegeta had plenty of reasons to be mad at her--what with her figuring out he was a spy and showing him that he had just spent a whole month in Paris for no reason thing (things?).

But if Bulma was being honest with herself (and why not, since she really was her only company for these last few days), she was avoiding Vegeta (and everyone else) so she would not have to face that moment in the office when her and Vegeta had just felt so...so...connected.

How was it that that this man she hated could get her feelings so aroused? It was like he made everything inside of her sharpened--what sort of connection could they have? As a scientist, she could not fathom what about him set her off--but as a woman, she could guess what her hormones were doing to her. She just wished she could ignore the way his face, or touch (especially his touch) haunted her when she least wanted it to.

But Bulma did not allow herself much time to agonize over those moments like a heroine in a gothic novel was wont to do, or, if she was going to continue to be honest with herself, like she had done back on the ship. No--she had better things to do than to sit in her room, moping about, questioning her questionable feelings for the Duke. She had work to do, dammit!

So Bulma had snuck back to the secret office when she had known it would be empty, retrieving all of her things, moving them to the sitting room of her bedroom suite, and had not left her room since then, throwing herself into her work. Bulma was extremely good at losing herself in her work, especially when she was trying to avoid thinking about something, and she worked at a frenetic pace.

She barely slept, she hardly ate, and she never left her suite--but she was close! So damn close. What, with all of the help Vegeta had given her, she was now almost ready to move on to the testing phases of her design for a steam powered engine. She just needed to figure out what would burn the longest and hottest--her experiments with some flammable materials in her sitting room had ended with scorch marks over the ceilings of Saiyan Hall--that she was not going to apologize for. The Vegetasei's wealth was vast enough to make the Briefs look like simply upper class--the last thing she was worried about was repainting the ceiling.

But she had narrowed it down to coal and wood, and was starting to realize that while wood might burn faster quicker, it also burned out more rapidly. It was hardly feasible to carry around tons of wood when at least half as much coal would produce the same amount of heat, though it did take longer...still. She was close, and she knew her experiments with models and real size ships would make all the difference in the world.

After six days of being locked in her room, though, refusing to see anyone but her maid, Bulma realized she had run out of work to do, and knew that she would now have to face society. The debut ball was tomorrow night (her first real foray into society!), and Bulma still had steps to take to ensure that Goku's debut would go smoothly. Especially as the dowager had sent her an acridly written note informing Bulma that if she did not come down for supper with the family tonight, she would postpone Bulma's debut and ship her right back to America, Kakarrot's deal with Vegeta be damned.

Horrid woman!

But it had worked. Bulma knew that even though she had left her brother at the mercy of Mr. Shu these past few days, she could not leave him to face the best of London society on his own. Goku and social graces just never mixed quite right. So she would make her way down for dinner, and put all of her personal feelings about the man whose house they were staying in back in the apartment she was leaving. She would also put on the proudest face she could, to shove it in the dowager's face that Bulma was a lady and that she had manners--goddammit!

So Bulma kept her head held high and her shoulders back as she made her way down the stairs, heading to the parlor where she knew the family always congregated before dinner. She took a deep breath before she entered, but then plastered a smile on her face, her eyes darting around the room as she observed all that was around her.

She was not sure if it was disappointment or relief that flooded her when she was informed by the dowager that the Duke would not be joining them for supper tonight, as he rarely did, as he spent supper time in his club, like most noble men of the gentry (pointed look to Goku) did.

Bulma just ignored her, and joined her family, who did not bat an eye at her disappearance. They were too used to Bulma getting into work mode to be surprised by her decision to stay secluded in her room rather than face them. Which worked, as they helped her get through the dowagers pestering questions, though Bulma left the family dinner with the strong impression that the dowager considered her an oddity indeed, and did not have high hopes for Bulma's marriage prospects.

Mainly because the dowager had looked her in the eyes right after the soup course and said, "you are an oddity, Miss Briefs, and I do not hold high hopes for you making a good match this season. You would do well to accept any proposal you get."

Bulma was going to inform the dowager that she had already received four proposals in her past seasons, and she had rejected each and everyone of them, though they had been from good families, with strong financial holdings--but the dowager had then turned to Kakarrot to berate him about something, and Bulma had realized it would not be worth the air it would take to breath to talk to the dowager. Especially as the older woman would be sure to find flaws with those who had proposed, or make it seem as if Bulma was only proposed to out of novelty. Bulma needed to conserve her energy (and her wits) for the debut tomorrow night. Not waste them in some pointless battle with an aging monster.

After dinner, the dowager had decided to retire early, but both Bulma and Goku had been surprised when both of their parents had stayed up late with them, playing whist as a family, long into the night. It was not until Mrs. Briefs was standing up, yawning, that it had become clear why they had decided to stay up with their children, rather than go to bed early as they usually did.

Mrs. Briefs had surprised both Bulma and Goku by grabbing their hands, and squeezing them, her eyes tearing as she said, "I just have a feeling that this might be one of the last times that it will be just us four as a family, and I want to savor it. Before we lose Goku forever to these Vegeta's, or Bulma to a rich English lord."

She had then started crying in earnest, and fled from the room before Bulma or Goku could respond. Dr. Briefs had looked like he had wanted to say something, but he had instead settled for ruffling Goku's hair, and awkwardly patting Bulma on the back before leaving the room, leaving Bulma and Goku to stare at each other in silent wonder for a few moments.

Goku blinked slowly, a few times, before he quirked his head, breaking the stillness of the moment, "do you think they're right?"

Bulma stared at her brother, still contemplative of their parents somber mood, "what do you mean?"

Goku looked at her, tapping his fingers on the card table, a small frown marring his face. "Do you really think this might be one of the last times we get to be a family like this?"

Bulma frowned, wishing she could say no, not a chance in hell, but she shrugged, too smart to assume life would ever go back to normal. "You're here for life it seems, and now that I'm not marrying Yamcha, I suppose I could find a match here in England. Mom and Dad would still go back to the states--there are too many interests of Capsule Corporation in the states for dad to live here. We'd still be close, but it won't be like it was before all this."

Goku looked solemn, nodding, before a grin spread on his face, "well we'll just have to get really good at writing each other letters, won't we?" Bulma chuckled, shaking her head as she thought of Goku's abysmal handwriting, and smiled as he continued, slinging an arm around her, "and you know if you do marry someone here in England, I will always be at your side!

Bulma smirked, before sticking her tongue out, snuggling into his arm for a second, "you're assuming I want you by my side as much as possible!"

Goku laughed, before grabbing her in a long bear hug, holding her close to him, before he let go suddenly, standing. She just smiled at him, knowing that her brother did not do emotions well, and had never had to truly say goodbye before. So she changed the subject, smiling, trying to pretend the heavy moments of before had not happened. "You coming to my room tonight, youngin'?"

Goku shook his head, "not tonight sis. We have an extremely long day ahead of us tomorrow." He turned to go, but stopped, smiling as he said back to her, "don't stay up too much later, all right?"

Bulma nodded, but did not move as she watched her brother leave the room. She sat, absentmindedly shuffling the cards she still held, and thought about what her mother and brother had said. Times were changing--there was no doubt about that, but it seemed to be just hitting her, solidly in her chest, that there would be no going back to her old life. Never again would it be her, Goku, and their parents. Something shifted deep in her chest at that thought, while her throat became constricted, hot tears prickling the back of her eyes, even as she continued to think on the subject.

If Bulma married someone in England, she would stay here while their parents went home, and if she married someone in America, there was no way they would live as close as Yamcha had, and she would move far away from her home. Even if she did not get married, Goku would never be allowed to come back with the family to America, and what had once been a happy foursome, would be back to just a boring trio. Goku's home in America no longer existed.

This was his home now...

Bulma felt the tears threatening to spill, and was about to give into the strange desire she had to cry, when she heard a deep voice behind her, "are you playing solitaire, or may I join you for a hand?"

Bulma, who had been on the verge of an uncharacteristic emotional breakdown, felt her spine straighten, the tears evaporating instantly as she heard that voice. She recognized it before she turned, but she still turned towards the sound, her heart beat quickening as she noticed Vegeta standing in the doorway to the drawing room.

Whatever sadness she had felt was replaced with curiosity, and anxiety as she took him in, as he calmly looked right back at her. Vegeta was still in his outer coat and beaver, belying the fact that he had just arrived home, and Bulma wondered if he had come here looking for her. Though what he could want to do with her was beyond Bulma (literally beyond her, as she refused to let herself consider why he wanted to find her).

Bulma gulped as she realized her thoughts were getting away from her, and looked back to Vegeta, trying to read his implacable face, as she continued to shuffle. Her options were to either bolt from the room, or to sit, playing him in a hand of cards.

Considering the last time they had seen each other Bulma had shown that she knew all about his secret life, discovered his secret office, and that, on top of that, revealed he had spent all of the last month gallivanting around France when he should have been gallivanting around here (but really, how horrible could that be), Bulma was expecting anger from him.

But looking at him, she only saw his usual calm deference, the detachment she had come to expect from him. No anger, not even a hint of the annoyance he had shown towards her every other time they had been together. She was tempted to see what he wanted from her--there could be no mistaking that he wanted to talk to her, and Bulma could only guess that it was because he wanted something from her. What other reason would he have to search her out, and engage her, when it was a well known fact, in all of London apparently, that the Duke of Vegetasei never sought anyone out?

Before she could over think it, Bulma nodded to the chair Goku had just vacated, and started to shuffle the cards in earnest, ignoring the way his dark eyes followed her hands as she shuffled and dealt the cards as he took off his coat and hat, sitting. Silence reigned as Bulma set them up for a two-person game of double dummy whist, setting out two piles for the imaginary partners they were playing with, dealing the deck out to themselves as well.

The silence stretched as they played their first few rounds, Bulma's nerves growing as taut as a bowstring as her curiosity at Vegeta's intrusion into the room (though could it really be called an intrusion if it was his house?), and his desire to play a hand of cards with her. She got the feeling he was sensing her out at the same time she was trying to get a read on him, but that only confused her. Bulma had always considered herself an open book, except for when it came to her inventions, but she doubted Vegeta wanted to ask her about her inventions.

Vegeta kept his eyes on his cards, though he was intimately aware of every little move the woman at the table was making. She was nervous--it was beyond obvious in the way she held herself, or constantly tapped her fingers on the table, her eyes flitting constantly to his face. If he were stupid he would assume she just had a horrible card playing face, but he knew it was because she was nervous about what he wanted from her. Good. Let her be nervous. He had waited six days to have this conversation with her. What would a few extra minutes of silence, which he had discovered was pure torture to the blue-haired inventor, really do to him?

Especially as everyday he had not spoken to her, he had grown angrier. He had seriously been contemplating barging into her room to have the conversation with her Basil had ordered he have, but Vegeta was no fool. He knew that if he was anywhere near a bedroom with her, he would not be able to control himself. Which would only lead to outrage (and so much passion) on her part, and the adamant refusal of any favor he would ask of her. So he had waited, expecting her to show herself at the family teatime, or any other time really.

He would have been more concerned for her health, but he had learned from eavesdropping on her family that this was par for the course for Bulma when she was on the verge of a technological breakthrough. Locking herself in her room, refusing to eat, etc, etc. Vegeta almost admired her dedication, but instead he was frustrated at her horrible, horrible timing.

Not that he had not been busy over this last week--he had a lot ahead of him, and not just the regular English season or a regular Duke who served in the house of lords or even as a regular cousin who took delight in sparring daily with his other family member. His duty to his majesty was requiring him to keep his eyes and ears wider than ever, looking for Zhelonie (or Green, or whoever he was), spending much more time at his club and other small society events that he wanted or needed to attend. Once the season started in full, he was going to have to attend more events than he usually did, as Basil strongly suspected that Zhelonie would move along the top tiers of English society.

It was going to be a busy season, indeed.

Vegeta played another hand, his eyes finally drifting up to his opponent, who looked so full of energy, he was sure she was going to burst. He delighted in making her nervous, but also frowned, knowing he needed to speed this meeting along. He had no intention of ravishing her, and yet his resolve was weakening every second they sat here, virtually unchaperoned (and he paid his servants well enough to know they would not gossip if anything untoward did occur).

Especially as her nervousness was making her cheeks flush red, her lower lip slightly swollen from the way she kept sucking on it or biting it. Did she do this knowing how provocative it was? He had not seen her in a week, and though he knew she was beautiful, it was like he truly had forgotten the effect her looks had on him.

But he needed to focus, and ignore the fact that he was extremely attracted to the American sitting across from him at the table. It was time to end this self-inflicted torture, and he would do so by telling her what he wanted. But in his own way, of course.

When Bulma finally thought that the widening silence could not get any worse, Vegeta spoke, casually, as he laid his cards on the table, "I spoke to Basil about what you said."

Bulma was shocked by where this topic of conversation had headed (not expecting to hear about the spy business!), but she resisted the urge to smirk as she too-casually said, "your gardener? About planting begonias in the springtime being all wrong for your garden?"

Bulma did not have to look up to read the astonishment in Vegeta's eyes, and she could almost read his thoughts even with her head down. Yes, she had cracked the code that Basil had sent all of his notes to Vegeta in, but he had not expected her to have it memorized. Hello, she was a genius! Of course she was going to remember it!

She heard an audible swallow, and she wondered what comment was going unsaid as Vegeta instead answered with, "yes. The begonia's were all wrong."

Bulma smiled sweetly as she looked at him through lowered lashes, "did you tell him I recommended lily's, instead? They are an infinitely better flower, would you not agree?"

Vegeta frowned at her for just an instance, before he made his face implacable again. "Indeed." He waited until he played another card, before he continued, swallowing hard before he spoke again. "Basil has requested your help with other gardening questions he has. He finds that your ability to...read between the lines, for not only British fauna, but foreign ones as well...has made you a great ally. Or so he hopes."

Bulma looked up from her cards, shocked at what he was asking her. She stared at Vegeta hard, trying to read every tick, but finding a stony facade, as per usual, as she slowly answered him, trying to get a read on him, "Basil has asked me to join his...enterprises in gardening?" Vegeta frowned at her phrasing, but gave a nod, his silence speaking volumes. Bulma relaxed as she thought about the offer, before looking down at her cards for a second, before she casually looked back up, "and you do not agree?"

Vegeta looked up at her, sharply, but he did not hold her eyes for long before he went back to playing his next hand, shrugging, "it is not my place to agree or disagree with Basil." Vegeta paused, and seemingly unable to stop himself, added, "though I did inform him you might not have the right sensibilities or sensitivity that is required for the job."

Bulma saw red at Vegeta's words, knowing that his opinion of her fell relatively low, but still finding it hurtful for some reason to know he thought so little of her character to speak ill of her to others. In a spiteful mood, Bulma answered low, and slowly, "well you are obviously not the person I need to speak to about gardening, as you have proven to be led down the wrong path, quite easily, it seems."

Vegeta's eyes met her own, sharp, again, and Bulma felt the anger seething off of him. Still, she admired his cool, as he calmly blinked, before he looked back down, "I shall inform Basil that you do not have much advice then, and that he should look elsewhere."

Bulma chuckled, drawing his eyes, as she played her trump card, effectively ending the game, as she leant back in her chair, her anger making this decision easy, "au contraire, Vegeta. I would love to help Basil with his gardening prospects. But I have some...requests."

Vegeta's jaw clenched (in anger, she was sure), but still, he nodded, "I will pass them on to Basil."

Bulma waved her hand, dismissing this, "there is no need, as they all relate to you." Vegeta's eyes grew a fraction wider, and Bulma chuckled again, "do not look so afraid. They are not much."

Vegeta eyed her suspiciously, for a long time, as if weighing his options. In the end, Bulma saw that his need to report positively to his superior, or whatever Basil was, won out, as he waved his hand, prompting her on. "Proceed."

Bulma smiled sweetly as she held up three of her fingers, "one, and most importantly--I get to use the Saiyan Lady, or one of your other ships, in my steam engine experiment. I am currently in the testing phases, and after a few test runs on smaller ships, I want to try it on a real, life-sized boat."

Vegeta's eyes grew wide, narrowing again as he answered, "not the Saiyan Lady." He swallowed, hard, again, before adding, "you can use any of my other ships though."

Bulma nodded, smiling, "agreed." She held up her second finger, "second, I get to ask you three questions, and you have to answer them truthfully."

Vegeta grew solemn, staring at her, before asking softly, "how will you know if I tell the truth?"

Bulma shrugged, "I won't. But I'm betting your honor won't let you not answer my questions wrong once you have given your word to answer them truthfully."

Vegeta frowned, but he nodded, adding a surprising stipulation, "for every question I answer truthfully, you have to answer one of mine just as truthfully."

Bulma nodded, "fine. I have nothing to hide."

Vegeta's frown disappeared, an eyebrow rising, "everyone has something to hide."

Bulma quirked her head, momentarily transfixed by how seductive a raised eyebrow could be, but then she shook her head, deciding to continue, "and thirdly..." She paused as she thought of how she wanted to phrase this. She considered going the blunt root, but instead she wimped out, and simply told him, "no more inappropriate situations should arise between us."

Vegeta stopped moving for a second, before a slow smirk quirked one of his lips upwards, "inappropriate situations? Care to expound on that? I find myself quite lost as to what you mean."

Bulma glared at him, crossing her arms over her chest as she saw the familiar spark in his eyes, "no, I would not care to, especially as I know that you know exactly to what I am referring to. I am looking for a husband, not a lover, and to tell you the truth, I do not wish to find either with you."

Vegeta looked as if he wanted to contradict that, but instead he gave a rather gracious nod, "I will not put you in any...inappropriate situations then. Though this might deem as one, since you and I are alone in a room, with nary a chaperone in sight."

Bulma glared at him, standing, ready to quit this whole bizarre encounter, "then I should bid you goodnight. I will expect the requests from Basil to come to me directly, and I will also expect for you to tell me what ship I can work on by the end of this week."

Vegeta stood as she did, and gave a mocking bow at her, "as the lady desires." His eyes met her own, and Bulma felt something rather hot slither through her at that look, "though I doubt the lady knows just what it is she is desiring..."

Bulma only gulped.

~~&~~
A/N: I'm always afraid of having Vegeta speak too much, as it seems rather out of character for him. But that's the hard/fun part about writing him as a romance hero--they need to speak. Smoldering glances and silent eyebrow raises only get you so far...

Next up--the debut ball! New characters, new developments--overall fun times for us all, I hope.