Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ The Dark Duke ❯ Conversations with the Duke ( Chapter 16 )

[ 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 and an appearance from the dowager duchess *shivers*

A/N: I want to take a moment to let all of my readers know (whether you've been with me since the beginning, found me a few months ago, or are just reading this story for the first time) that I love you all, and could never abandon this story. I've had this story in my head for years (it feels like), and want you guys to know that even if it takes me a little while to update, I will always find you return! I wanted to write this thing for too long to simply up and abandon it--plus that's not my style. I can't just leave the characters (or you guys!) hanging!

Big ups to lilpumpkingirl for beta-ing. She catches all those things I never notice, even if its my fifth read through of a particular part...for that, I owe you big time!

Also, keep those reviews coming. I read them all and hold them very near and dear to my heart!

Chapter Sixteen: Conversations with the Duke

Vegeta had not survived the war and years of being a spy without knowing when a losing moment called for reinforcements. And so, as he entered the ducal office with the dowager tapping angrily behind him he did not wait for her to take her seat as he turned to his always well-stocked sideboard. Manners be damned! As she clucked her tongue disapprovingly at him, Vegeta selected a vintage peaty scotch that always left one with a smoky taste on the tongue, and a vibrant punch in the stomach, pouring himself a full tumbler--he did not bother with ice, as that only took up precious room in the society dictated small glasses. When it was full, Vegeta took the glass, took a rather large swallow and looked at the amber liquid. Then (just for good measure), he refilled it to the brim.

What better reinforcements could there be for facing the dowager?
Turning to face her, the dowager did not waste time, her heavy eyebrows drawn down low. "I don't like her."

Vegeta was not a fool, nor would his acting the one get the dowager out of here as soon as possible, so there was no pretense of not knowing whom Ôshe' was. Hell--Ôshe' seemed to be the only person he could think about. Why would the dowager be immune from the same affliction? Though he hoped the dowager's thoughts were different from his own...especially after what had transpired between them in the gardens last night.

He slipped into the chair behind the ducal desk, carefully sipping some more 'reinforcement' before he replied casually, "I hardly think that is a secret. You've made your dislike clear of her since she first showed up. To me, to her--hell, I think even the laundry maids know you do not like Miss Briefs."

The dowager stonily stared back at him, not bothering to reply to his jest as she continued in her same icy tone, "If it is possible, I like her even less now that she has been introduced."

Vegeta smirked into his glass, not meeting the dowager's eye. He should have known that the dowager would have held it against Bulma that she was the most talked about part of their ball. The dowager had been undoubtedly waiting for Vegeta to get back so she could talk to him about what a damn nuisance Bulma was. ÊThe dowager had planned for weeks so Kakarrot could make an impression--not Bulma. The American had a way of screwing ones plans up it seemed...

Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê ÊStill, some of the tension eased from Vegeta's back as he realized the dowager simply wanted to talk about Bulma making a bigger impression than the new Viscount of Vegetasei. So the dowager had not seen anything between him and Bulma, had she? If she had, Vegeta was sure she would have brought it up to start with.

The dowager always had a good lecture inside of her, waiting to come out--and what better one than the tried and true, Ôyou're the head of the family, and as such, you must act this way!' It had always been a favorite of the dowager's--first heard when Vegeta was six and had tried sneaking a dog into their ancestral home, and all the way up to... two days ago.

Ê Ê Ê Ê Ê ÊThe dowager stomped her cane, reclaiming Vegeta's attention, and he realized she was waiting for him to speak. He obliged, wanting her to get to her point--now that he realized he was not going to be lectured for tupping the American. His secret was safe...for now.

"What did she do last night to earn your ire?"

The dowager's nostrils flared, her whole voice body vibrating with barely concealed anger as she spoke. "I was sure the American would do herself in by revealing her appalling manners to all last night, and that would be that. She would give up on her foolish plan to marry into the aristocracy, and go back to America." Her eyes flashed with malice as she looked him square in the eye. "But now she has become this season's incomparable! It's unsightly!"

Vegeta started to wonder at the dowager's raised voice--just what was it about Bulma that seemed to wring emotions out of the unusually unflappable (and unfeeling) Vegetasei's. Still, he kept himself calm and uninterested sounding when he responded, "Unsightly?"

ÊThe dowager nodded, picking up steam, speaking faster, "She is old enough to be considered a spinster! The way the ton was panting after her last night. Ghastly!" She shook her head sadly at that thought, before continuing, "They are only fooled by her facade of manners and politeness. They do not see the uncouth foreigner--they see the charming Miss Briefs. It is enough to make one sick, I tell you!"

Vegeta said nothing, only taking a sip. He knew that the best way to further infuriate the dowager was to simply be unaffected by what she was saying. So far, he saw no reason for why she was telling him all about this--he knew she had her other group of old cronies who's only pleasure in life was to hate anyone who just happened to be younger than them. What did she gain from bitching to him?

Her frown went further south as she realized he was going to persist in not responding in the way she had hoped, the lines around her mouth deepening. "Their names are being linked in the morning papers."

Again, Vegeta was not an idiot, and Ôtheir' names did not need to be clarified. The dowager had come to him last night about Bulma and Kakarrot dancing, and he should not have expected that to be the end of it. That was the root of the problem, was it not? Kakarrot's prospects would be dimmed if everyone thought he was already ensnared by a woman who everyone wanted to be ensnared by. And if their names were being linked in the gossip rags... Truly, if he cared more, he could see why the dowager was upset.

Vegeta only drily replied though, "No one seems to be heeding them as a serious couple if the amount of flowers being delivered to Miss Briefs is any indication."

His grandmother stared down her nose at him as she snapped, "Don't try and be cute Vegeta. You and I both know that their names are linked, and unless they avoid each other at all costs every time they dance together they will have the eyes of the ton on them."

Vegeta shrugged, despite knowing that this was the truth. But this was hardly something he could even pretend to care about--especially after what had happened last night. Clearly, Bulma had no infatuation with Kakarrot. Otherwise...well, last night would not have happened.

Or would it?

Before Vegeta could let himself dwell on that thought, the dowager, sensing that she was losing him, stomped her cane again and reclaimed his attention. She was glaring at him, but Vegeta just took another sip of his drink, before sarcastically asking, "What would you have me do? Dance with the chit every time I see her heading towards her brother?"

The dowager seemed to consider this before she shook her head, frowning, "No. Your name was also linked with Miss Briefs in the paper today as well...."

Vegeta had to stop himself from making a spectacle of himself, shouting WHAT knowing the dowager would like nothing more for him to react to what she had told him. Instead he simply raised an eyebrow at her, sounding almost amused "Oh really?"

The dowager waved her hand dismissively as if she had not heard the amusement in his tone, trying instead to soothe the concern that she believed should have been there. She would be sympathetic when he needed none. "Nothing substantial. Just mentioning the only dance you had all evening was with Miss Briefs. That is not our concern though. We both agree that this woman is not suitable for Kakarrot," She did not wait for his agreement, before plowing on, "And that she needs to be taken care of." Her eyes met his squarely as she evenly said, "Get rid of her Vegeta."

Vegeta smirked at the dowager's ruthlessness. She was very single minded when she wanted to be, not letting anything stand in the way of what she truly wanted--it was a family trait, that mulish stubbornness. Still, the dowager seemed to pride herself on it more than most Vegetasei's. Vegeta, seeing the dead seriousness of the dowager's face, could not stop the imp inside of him from prodding, "Are you suggesting we off her for being a success? Tie her in a bag, throw it in the Thames?"

The dowager was far too serious when she answered, "No, I've thought of that, but she's too famous now, especially since she made such a good impression on the Ton. Those fools."

Vegeta was more surprised that he was shocked at what the dowager had said, rather than actually being shocked at what she had said to begin with. Of course she would have considered murder...though why that was an 'of course,' Vegeta did not want to think too much about. He kept his voice as even as possible when he responded, "Indeed."

There must have been something in his tone though, because the dowager gave him a pointed look as she continued, "She is only after his title--that's all American's are after. And we are not poor or undignified enough to need her money. If Kakarrot is to marry it will be of some high standing family with a titled history as long as ours."

Vegeta frowned, sensing the truth in her words, but having a hard time ever agreeing with the dowager. It was against his very being to simply...agree with her. So he ignored the impulse to do so, and stretched on, "So how would you have me get rid of Miss Briefs if it is not to murder?"

The dowagers eyebrows winged over her eyes, giving her an even more demented look than the one Vegeta was used to, but he only swirled the very tiny remainder of scotch in his glass, before taking another sip. He knew her intimidation moves well, but as he was no longer a child, they did not work on him like they used to.

The dowager shook her head at this behavior disapprovingly, but decided to save that lecture for another time, Êbefore giving him a sharp look, "There are things a woman can do that will her..." she paused, suddenly toying with the Vegetasei pearls she always wore, as if thinking for the right word. Vegeta felt a shiver run down his spine as her eyes snapped to his again, any emotion and sign of humanity that she had gone as she gave him a cruel smile. "...Unmarriageable."

Vegeta stared at her blankly, his mind turning to sludge as he tried to comprehend what she was saying. Well, he knew what she was asking, but he wished he did not. Still, he could not help but bluntly look at her, "Are you suggesting I seduce her?"

ÊThe cruel smile was still on her face as she gave a nod, and Vegeta had to fight back a strangled laugh that was trying to force its way out. The dowager did not know what happened between them, last night, did she? This was not some cruel joke she was playing on him, was it? But as he studied her, he saw how deadly serious she was. She was not kidding, and she was not playing a cruel joke-- she wanted him to seduce Bulma, and to ruin her. Oh the irony--Shakespearean farces' were not this full of irony.

Vegeta closed his eyes for a second, wishing this whole encounter away, wishing to be anywhere but here, truly. The frozen tundra of Siberia would be heaven compared to this place. When he opened his eyes, and saw that his wishes had not been granted though, he let out a loud sigh. He should never have had this meeting with the dowager--he still needed to talk to Bulma, and this meeting was not making anything easier for him to understand. If anything, he now had to worry about the dowager's plans and how she was going to implement them, on top of everything else he already had on his plate.

Squeezing the bridge of his nose between his forefinger and thumb, he took a deep breath, blew it out slowly and opened his eyes. Vegeta noticed the dowager was watching him with undue interest, and so he forced himself to reply as calmly as possible, "No."

Her lips were pursed as she answered, her displeasure in his answer so apparent she might as well have been wearing a sign that said she was disappointed in him. "Vegeta, you will do this for your family--her reputation must be ruined, so she will leave. Kakarrot is ours now, he has been introduced. We have no reason to keep her around to appease him--she will only do more harm than good now."

He had to admit there was frightening logic in his grandmothers thinking, but it was too inhumane even for him. Maybe it was because of some misplaced guilt over taking Bulma so roughly in the gardens last night, or because he had recruited her into the spy business (a point he could neither admit, nor forget)--but the last thing he wanted to do was to send Bulma away for good. Basil would not be happy with him if he found out that the main reason a skilled interpreter (a rarity in England) could not work for them was because Vegeta had ruined her.

So Vegeta forced himself to take another sip, and meet the dowager's eye as he spoke to her slowly and calmly. "The answer is still no. I will not sleep with this girl because you want me to."

The dowager's lips thinned even further, adding to the overall menacing look she had. Something about her right now reminded Vegeta of a vulture he had seen while in the deserts of Egypt--a vulture who had watched him, waiting for him to die of thirst, glaring every time he would stubbornly stand back up, refusing to die. The vulture and the dowager shared the same look of immense disbelief in what Vegeta was capable of, and extreme dislike of him since he refused to do what they wanted.

She spoke lowly as she continued, "Don't you dare act as if I am insulting your prudish sensibilities Vegeta. I know what you are capable of. I even know all about your past mistresses." She paused before she added, "I even knew that I had to invite your latest mistress to the ball last night, as she is not someone you do not not invite to successful functions. Though the Widow did not remain long after Miss Briefs showed up..."

Vegeta frowned. He had not even realized the Widow had been there last night. He usually prided himself on his keen perception--he had a gift for noticing things that others did not, of seeing the things most people missed--but the fact that a former mistress of his had been present and he had not even been aware? Was Bulma blinding him so much that he was losing his touch?

Another thump of her cane, and Vegeta was drawn back to the dowager, who was looking entirely too pleased with herself. "I can see you are beginning to see the necessity of my plan."

Vegeta rolled his eyes at that, but leaned forward. "Let us hypothetically say I agree to your plan... which I am not," he reminded her as he saw her eyes begin to glitter even more than usual. He did not miss the way her lips became more pursed as he spoke, "What makes you think Miss Briefs will want anything to do with me?"

The dowager smirked, a look Vegeta recognized as the closest she ever got to a smile. She thought she had him, didn't she? She waved her hand at Vegeta's reasoning, "Oh I do not foresee a problem. For one, she is an American, and we know they have no strong moral code. For two, the women seem to lust after you. They all see you as a puzzle to be solved, a devil to redeem, a bad boy to tame--use those Vegetasei skills of yours for good for once."

Vegeta said nothing as the dowager stood, knowing she was getting ready to leave. Good, he needed to be rid of her to try and sort through his more and more muddled thoughts. Vegeta, knowing the dowager's penchant for having the last word, waited until she was almost gone before commenting, "What if I refuse to fall in line with your ridiculous plot?"

When the dowager turned to face him, her face was a mask of pure fury--an emotion that went far beyond her usual haughty angry self. "This is for the good of the continued Vegeta bloodline Vegeta! Do not tell me you have forgotten your lessons growing up! You know perfectly well it is your duty as the Duke to do some unpleasant tasks to make sure that our blood remains pure!"

Her raised voice brought Vegeta's hackles up, her furious eyes causing his soul to ice over, but her words hit him square in the chest. This whole thing, the whole reason the Briefs were here, the whole reason he even knew whom Bulma Briefs was (let alone slept with her) was because of keeping the Vegetasei bloodline pure. He did not agree with the dowager's horrid plan, but he saw the truth in her words. He was raised better than this--their blood was not meant to mix with Americans with no titles.

The dowager, sensing that she had finally broken through to him smirked again, stamping her cane one last time for good measure. "Good. Do this as quickly as you can--the sooner we can get rid of her, the better."

Rather than point out he never agreed to anything, Vegeta merely watched her leave, feeling all the weight of all of the worries from last night settle on his chest like a lead weight.

~~&~~

Not that much later, Vegeta sat with the morning's paper pressed in front of him, reading the gossip rag with an unbelieving smirk on his face. How did the ton fall for this drivel? Nothing but names shortened to one letter (Lady H--, Sir C--, Lord F--), and salacious rumors reprinted to paper.

Yet he knew that the Ton lived and died by these papers, believing anything that was in print. He shook his head--if that was not proof of the Ton's stupidity, he did not know what was. Still, his eyes had flitted from rumor to rumor, until he got to the part that the dowager had mentioned to him:

Vegetasei Ball, rousing success, as was the introduction of the new Lord V----, who was seen getting very close to his Ôsister' Miss B---- for four different dances (two of them waltzes)! Not to worry though--the very last waltz was saved for the other Lord V----, the only dance of the night he put in. Miss B---- is showing herself to be the incomparable of the season. Definitely one to keep an eye on especially if she's with her Ôbrother' (Not to fear gentle reader--Lord V---- is her adopted brother)

Vegeta's frown grew deeper as he read the article--yes his name was only used in the most innocuous of ways (a scold about not dancing enough?), but the rest of the article made him uneasy. If it was in the gossip rags, it was sure to be on the lips of every member of the Ton in London. Kakarrot and Bulma would be unable to go anywhere without being watched like hawks--and any matches Vegeta had hoped to make for his younger cousin would be for naught if the girls thought they were up against Bulma. He would have to get through to them the importance of only being the most proper of proper with each other.

With that thought, he sighed as he creased the paper, putting it down and pinched the bridge of his nose as another headache pressed against his forehead. Talking to Kakarrot about propriety would be a lost lecture--he knew Kakarrot struggled with even the most basic understanding of how society operated. He would have to talk to Bulma about it, appeal to her as someone who understood just how important this was for Kakarrot. She would not deny her brother anything...but this meant he was finally going to have to speak to Bulma. Something he had been dreading since...well, since he had gone to bed last night and realized he would have to talk to her.

He was lost in thought as he rang for Jeffries, the butler's entrance swift. Vegeta did not even look him in the eyes as he distractedly waved him off, "Bring me Miss Briefs, Jeffries." Vegeta did not even notice that Jeffries did not jump to do his bidding (as he usually did), and only noticed that the butler was still in the room with him when Jeffries discretely cleared his throat.

Vegeta, who had a thousand and one things on his mind, absentmindedly looked at him, "Yes?"

"Miss Briefs is entertaining in the Yellow room, sir--I do not know if she can easily extricate herself from the situation."

Vegeta felt his irritation rise at that little bit of news. Vegeta had been struggling all day with his thoughts about Bulma, and she was entertaining as if nothing had happened between them last night? Typical woman! He frowned at Jeffries as he realized what the butler was saying, "Just how many men are in the Yellow room right now that she cannot make her excuses and leave?"

Jeffries kept his professionalism about him as he answered, "Twenty-seven at last count, your Grace."

Vegeta was up out of his chair, cursing like a sailor, "Oh for the love of--," as he stormed from the room, the Yellow room his only destination.

~~&~~

As soon as Vegeta entered the over-crowded Yellow room, his male vanity was slightly appeased as he saw those who noticed his entrance eyes growing round in shock (and fear?), shooting up out of their chairs or straightening from the perches they had been leaning on, tugging anxiously at their cravats. Those who had noticed him quickly made their excuses about places to be, leaving the room seconds after he had entered.

Another handful of suitors were lost as Vegeta made his way to the center of the room, leaving like scared puppies as they noticed him, and after he asked one man to move (asked is too polite of a word here...especially as Vegeta barked at him "MOVE") only three men remained. Two of them were simply enraptured by Bulma, unnoticing of the presence of the Duke--but one of them, that damned Viscount Viridian, was sitting right at her elbow, chatting amiably with her as if he had not a care in the world. And he had definitely noticed the Duke, as he had shot him a smirk as Vegeta had effectively cleared the room, before continuing to talk to Bulma.

As Vegeta cleared his throat, catching the other two men's attention, one blushed getting up to leave. The other man, a little older than the other, saw Vegeta and got up and approached Vegeta, though whatever he had been about to approach Vegeta with had been lost as the younger man returned, and had practically dragged the older man out.

Vegeta, sensing that Viridian would not be an easy one to scare off, frowned at the man before leaning against the fireplace with his shoulder, so he could very easily glare at the pair of them. He would like to say he was listening to what they were talking about, but he found that the longer he sat there, the louder the blood in his ears pounded, his anger at being made to wait to talk to HIS houseguest (and the woman HE had claimed last night) grew.

He did not even turn to look at Bulma, whose back was to him, forcing the full anger of his quiet glare to settle pointedly at Viridian's head, as if this would cause it to explode. If only he had that kind of power...

The pair on the couch continued to chatter though, as if nothing had happened. That was complete bullshit--Vegeta did not believe it was possible for them to not know he was there--he had scared off twenty-six of the twenty-seven suitors in under two minutes--and Bulma had not noticed this? Please.

Finally, looking completely at ease with himself, as if he had not a care in the world, the Viscount stood, smiling at Bulma. The pounding of his own blood through Vegeta's ears abated just enough for him to catch their goodbye's. "I hate to cut this lovely visit short, but I have an appointment with my Valier that cannot be missed."

Bulma stood as well, walking Viridian to the door of the Yellow room as she smiled graciously at him. "Of course, I appreciate your visit Viridian. Thank you for the blue orchids."

Vegeta snorted at that, wondering if she even knew just which set of blue orchids were from Viridian, but he was ignored by the other two occupants in the room as they said their good-byes. It was not until Viridian made his final bow (kissing Bulma's hand again!) that Bulma even turned to the room, her eyes laying square on Vegeta.

Vegeta used the opportunity of her stare to study her--he did not know what he was expecting after what had happened between them last night, but he was almost disappointed to see that nothing had visibly changed about her. She was still beautiful, yes--but there was not the look about of her of a woman who had thoroughly made love to. He would have to rectify that at some later date that was for sure.

As he looked back into her blue eyes, Vegeta was surprised to see how well she masked her emotions as she smiled politely at Vegeta, as if just noticing him. "Your Grace. I was just about to go looking for you."

Vegeta, who had been dreading facing Bulma since he had left her and had really thought about what had happened between them had imagining the gamut of emotions she might throw in his face (anger, fear, lust, etc, etc) was surprised she was going with politeness. Had he imagined the encounter in the garden? Or was she even better at masking her emotions than he had imagined. "You were?"

She nodded as she rang for some more tea, before moving to the couch she had been occupying a minute earlier, smiling as she sat. She looked at him, as if she was chiding him. "Of course I was. We have numerous things to discuss." Bulma, showing some more of those exquisite manners she had displayed last night had waved her hand to one of the numerous chairs that had just been occupied. "Please do sit, your Grace. I feel tired just watching you stand there, glaring at the room."

Vegeta frowned at her as he chose to sit in the chair closest to her, so they would not have to shout to be heard, but considered moving as he caught a whiff of her usual lavender scent. Just a whiff of that, and he was imagining his face buried in her neck as he had entered her last night--Vegeta reared back as if he had been physically struck, noticing the odd look Bulma was giving him. He ignored her politely questioning gaze (who the hell was this Ôpolite' creature, and what had she done with the Bulma he knew) before he settled back in the chair. Right--he had come here for a reason, and odd behavior or no, he was going to have the conversation with Bulma he needed to have. "About last night--"

Bulma waved him off, cutting him off, "Oh, no--not about that. I know I danced with Goku too many times, and you do not have to scold me about that...." She gave him a pleasant smile, "Again." She actually chuckled at that, as if she had said something incredibly witty.

Vegeta was sure his mouth was sagging open, but he had a hard time stopping it. Just what the hell was her game? Why was she treating him like another of her fawning suitors?! Vegeta forced himself to take a calming breath, forcing himself to stay in the present as he tried again, "Yes, I understand that--but you and I need to speak about the garden--." This time the entrance of the maid bringing a tea tray cut off Vegeta.

Bulma did not say anything as the fresh teapot was placed before her, expertly serving both of them their tea--somehow guessing that he took his completely black, while she added loads of sugar to her own tea. After they were alone again, Bulma was the one who leaned forward, her warmth invading Vegeta's space as she whispered, "The gardens. Yes, we do need to talk about that." Vegeta let out a sigh of relief that she was not going to dance around the issue, though his relief did not last long as she continued, "Were you able to catch Green or ÔFather' after we split up, then?"

Vegeta was caught off guard by her question, wondering if she was being willfully obtuse--or if his seduction of her had been so sloppy, so not even worth it in her book, that she saw no reason for him to even bring it up. While his male pride cried out for him to wipe the polite smile off of her face with a long, thorough kiss that was sure to make her weak in the knees, his wits won out as he considered the question.

His eyes darted to the door of the sitting room, left ajar so nothing improper could be implied (not that that was bloody likely, Vegeta realized, what with her acting as if nothing had happened between them) and looked back at her, shaking his head, lowering his voice. "No--by the time I tried to pick up on their trails, they had gone cold. I even looked for any clues about to who they were, but there was not even a footprint to be found of the pair."

Bulma nodded, frowning as she spoke, "I was afraid that was going to happen--especially as you wasted your time getting me back to the house."

Vegeta's lips flattened in disapproval, his sarcasm loud and clear as he drily replied, "I'm sorry that I was concerned for your well-being."

Bulma lifted an eyebrow as she brought the tea to her lips, and asked with polite interest (when had she become the most polite creature on the face of the Earth, Vegeta wondered), "Were you? Actually concerned for my well-being?"

Vegeta made a non-committal grunt as he took a sip of his tea, avoiding her gaze, wondering how to answer that. Sitting with her now, in the sitting room, as she acted like a complete stranger to him, Vegeta would say no. But last night, he had felt an odd protective side of him clamor to be let out as he thought of Bulma going after Green by herself, and being caught by the able spy. He frowned further at that thought, and, rather than answer, took another drink of his tea, showing some biscuits in his mouth so he could not answer.

Bulma took no notice of his answer though (or, rather, his non-answer), as she put her tea down, putting a finger to her chin as she reasoned aloud. "Well what do we know from what we heard? We know this Green person is working with an accomplice--I thought in your report of him you said he was working with the Cold's of Russia?" Vegeta nodded, still unable to talk thanks to the amount of biscuits he had shoved in his mouth, and she frowned at him. "Hmm--interesting. I wonder who this father is then--not a hint of Russian or French accent. I could definitely hear the French lilt in Green's though...if it was indeed the Green we are looking for..."

Vegeta took a gulp of hot tea to get rid of the rust of the crumbs in his mouth, and then snorted at Bulma, "Who else could it be? How many spies do I have running around my estate who just happen to have that codename?"

Bulma looked thoughtful as she tapped her finger on her chin. "It is quite a large estate..."

Vegeta felt his jaw threaten to slacken again at her willful obtuseness, but then she shook her head, smiling at him. At least it was not a polite smile this time, Vegeta thought as she continued to talk. "Something just feels off about the situation. This Green mentioned a target who was at your ball, someone that they were able to see or make contact with." Vegeta nodded as he remembered the conversation, but she carried, on, "I thought the worry with Zhelonie is that they are thought to be working in league with the Russians to try and gain Britain's land holdings in Asia?"

Vegeta frowned as he fell into full spy mode. "Or worse.... Our fears with Zhelonie have rested more with ability to blend into aristocracy. We are more afraid that he will be able to gain holdings with the higher echelons of British society and do his subterfuge there. A spy in the upper ranks is always cause for distress, but more so with someone like Zhelonie who is rumored to have helped overthrow numerous monarchies in what are now Russian landholdings. A few well placed connections, and he can gain entrance with the King, the Prime Minister, or any number of people who he could blackmail, or murder, all for the sake of the Russian Tsar."

Bulma was contemplative as she spoke, "Of course--cut off the head, and the body will follow. If the King, or even the top of his advisors, go down Britain is ripe for the picking for another powerful monarchy to sweep in and take control of not just Britain's land holdings but Britain itself."

Vegeta nodded grimly. "Exactly." Vegeta had never had someone to talk to so openly about his work before--but he had to admit it was not horrible. It helped him to say certain things out loud, and while he knew he should trust no one, he found himself wanting to run some of his crazier theories past Bulma. Still, he did not get ahead of himself, and only informed her, "I have already been to the war offices this morning with a list of names I want them to do background checks on--hopefully we can get something from that."

"Good, good." She nodded, before she reached into the pockets of her skirt, pulling out her own list, "I have some names myself, but they probably match yours."

"It does not hurt to check." Vegeta paused, "Though I thought I told you to leave the actual spy work to me."

Bulma frowned at him. "Vegeta, I think I can handle writing down a list of names of people who caught my interest at a ball. Nothing more--no sneaking around listening with my ears pressed to doors or anything. I promise."

Vegeta's frown deepened, but then he nodded in acknowledgement. Never mind that that was exactly what Basil had asked Vegeta to ask Bulma to do from now on, something about it made Vegeta feel uneasy. What if she was caught? He did not dwell on that thought for long, as she handed Vegeta her list.

Most of the names were ones he had, but a few more were some he was able to either say no to right away (due to this knowledge of the Ton), though a couple were ones he had missed completely. He put the list in his own pocket, and frowned at her, "I had a meeting with Basil this morning."

Bulma cocked her head with interest. "And?"

Vegeta frowned as he relayed what he had been told to tell her, "He is sending over some paper's he needs translated this afternoon, and he wants you to talk to him through me," he paused, hesitating before continuing, "We both agree that my going to too many events would arouse suspicion. So I will only make my usual handful of appearances--I need you to be my eyes and ears Bulma."

Her face lit up, and she nodded eagerly. A bit too eagerly. He could not help but caution, "I don't want you doing anything more than keeping your ears open--you are not well known in the Ton, and the last thing we need you to do is to cast aspersions onto what you are doing, sneaking around the houses of the gentry."

Bulma frowned at him, looking as if she wanted to argue, but instead she nodded, "Fine. I will do nothing more than keep my ears and eyes open. You'd be surprised what people say around those they think are clueless. And I think we can both agree I can act more witless than the average pea-brain."

Vegeta smirked at that, and she smiled at him, blinking slowly, a moment of camaraderie passing between them, putting them both at ease.

Which immediately made Vegeta nice and uncomfortable as he realized that he had almost forgotten about why he had wanted to talk to Bulma last night. She had made him forget anything untoward had even happened between the two of them last night, what with her talk of work, and other things--and Vegeta had been lulled into a false sense of security. Damn, maybe this woman had a future as a great spy...

Vegeta knew he was stalling with thoughts such as those, and he sighed as he bit the bullet, knowing that they needed to speak about what had happened between them last night. Vegeta was not one to not face the consequences of his actions...

"Bulma, we must speak about last night--"

Bulma cut him off again, though not with the expected subject change, "Vegeta what has happened, happened. There is no reason to speak about it, as we both know it will never happen again. I think it would be better for our working and living relationship if we just ignore the fact that it ever happened." She looked at him, her blue eyes determined. "Agreed?"

Vegeta felt his ire rising at her speech--though he had to admit he could not have put it better himself, and that he was indeed going to say something along those lines...yet...it irked him to no end to know that Bulma would rather ignore everything that had happened between them than talk about it. How could she? She had enjoyed what had happened, it did not take an expert to know that she had lost herself to the passion just as much as he had. Yet she was sitting here, calmly sipping her tea and talking to him as if some monumental change had not happened in their relationship.

Vegeta felt an uncomfortable pushing in his chest, and his frown grew hateful as he wondered if for her anything had changed. She was an American and she was no innocent--and even Vegeta had to admit that last night had not been his best performance...was this her way of saying she was so unimpressed with him that it did not even bear her embarrassment at having slept with him? Was he worth so little in her eyes?

Vegeta's male pride was hurt at that, and he felt his anger growing again. He needed to get out of here before he made a scene worthy of Drury Lane. Fine--if she wanted to act as if nothing had happened, than he would only be so happy to oblige the bitch!

As he stood, though, he was unable to stop himself from glaring at her as he bit out, "I could not have put it better myself, Miss Briefs. Nothing happened between us last night--nothing that I will remember a month from now, that is for sure." She frowned at that, but he only nodded at her before left the room, using all of his will power to not turn back around and screw her so thoroughly that she would be unable to walk normally for at least a week.

~~&~~

Bulma waited until Vegeta had left the room completely before she deflated like a balloon with a hole in it, letting out a long breath as she closed her eyes. She wanted to do nothing more than to fall into her bed at home (her real home, in New York) and sleep for a week straight.

She had done it. She had fooled him--she had fooled everyone--but most importantly she had fooled him. That was what mattered the most. She was exhausted from the performance she had just put on--Broadway could not boast a better performance! It had taken all of her emotional willpower to be polite with Vegeta, to talk to Vegeta as if he were a normal male--there was absolutely no need for Vegeta to know just how much exactly he had affected her.

Last night had been a blur after getting to her room, but Bulma had woken much earlier than she usually did this morning. She found herself hugging her legs to her chest as she sat with her chin on her knees staring at the crumpled heap of her clothes that were thrown over the dressing room door from last night and fighting back tears as her thoughts had attacked her. Though the dress was red, Bulma had realized last night that if one looked close enough at the inside of the white crinoline that added to the volume of the skirt, there were some telltale rust colored streaks.

Bulma had let out a strangled cry as she looked at the dress, realizing that those telltale streaks were all that remained of her virginity.

She groaned, her forehead to her knees as she contemplated what the hell was wrong with her. Whenever she had imagined losing her virginity it had been with Yamcha on their wedding night in a bed. Hell, it did not even have to be Yamcha--but it would be with a man who loved her, who was gentle with her, who treated her with nothing but the upmost respect and love. She had not considered it any other way--and certainly not in the gardens, with her clothes not even properly off, by a man she could not decide how she felt about. Half of the time, hell, more than half of the time, she was sure that she hated him.

But the night before Bulma had felt drugged by the passion, thought gone from her head, feeling replacing any worries or doubts--she could not have stopped Vegeta if she wanted to (and she did not want to in the moment, that was for damn sure). And now she was in her bed, feeling very vulnerable.

What had she done? What was wrong with her? How could she have done something so...so...stupid?

She had not felt very much like a genius in that moment that was for sure.

As she felt the questions rising up to choke at her, Bulma had forced the tears that threatened to spill away and she had forced herself to take some action, to not wallow in her own thoughts. So she had gotten up, wincing as she felt some unfamiliar twinges in between her legs, but had moved on, ignoring them. She had taken the dress shoving it in the furthest recesses of her dressing room where not even a maid would find it. After she did this, she calmly used the fresh water in her basin to wash not only her face and hands but her inner thighs as well, clinically rinsing away any signs of the indiscretion that remained. She frowned as she studied her body in the mirror, noting that while there were some red patches from where Vegeta had kissed and suckled at her, not much else had changed about her body--odd. She had expected to look as different as she felt, that was for sure.

After she had gotten ready, Bulma had lost some of her nerve, and she had almost rung for her breakfast to be brought up to her. But at that same moment she had heard Jeffries wishing Vegeta a good day, and she had reconsidered--especially as not a second later, there had been a loud knocking on her door. Goku, never one for patience called through, "Come on, sis! I need you to come answer all of mom and dad's questions about last night at breakfast! Don't let me fend for myself--I need you!"

Bulma had smiled at that, shaking her head at her brother. Sure, she might have undergone a huge change last night, and felt as if she was another person completely--but she was still Bulma Briefs. She still needed to finish up her experiments on the blueprints for her steam engine, she still needed to go charm the socks off of the British Ton, and most importantly of all, she needed to go act big sister to a brother who would always need her.

Something in her, some bit of pride (okay, maybe some large bit of pride) made Bulma toss her shoulders back, and open the door with a wide smile on her face. If Vegeta could go about his day as if nothing had happened, then so would she. "Fine--but you really need to learn how to waltz--deal?"

Goku had smiled sheepishly. "Fine. But can we go riding first?

Bulma thought of the soreness between her thighs, and shook her head. "Let's go for a walk today--I want to test my model ship on the Serpent at Hyde, okay?"

Goku nodded. "Sure--only if you let me play with the model ship."

She had laughed. "Deal!"

So Bulma had gone about her day as if nothing had changed inside of her. She had gone down to breakfast, surprising her father, but managed to have a very productive conversation about her work. She had gone to the Serpent with Goku and tested her model ship, working out how much power would be needed to move a ship a thousand times bigger than her model. When Bulma had arrived home, and she had seen the large amount of flowers waiting for her, knowing more were to come (she had no shame in admitting she knew they would) she had gone to the Yellow room and played the most lively, polite hostess that she ever had in her life. She had not rolled her eyes at the tired compliments about her looks, but smiled brightly at each man who brought her blue flowers. If only they knew her favorite were purple violets...

Oh, she had known as soon as Vegeta had entered the room. Not only had she noticed that her numerous suitors that had hastily departed as he moved through their midst, she had felt a very change in the air--she had known he was coming into the room before he had even entered it. Though that could be because she had been on the edge of her seat, waiting for him to find her all day today.

She was in the middle of a conversation with Viridian when Vegeta had entered though, and was not about to go about acting like a blushing schoolgirl. So she had not even acknowledged him until after Viridian had finally left. She was going to act as if nothing had happened, and kill him with her kindness. Even if it took everything out of her (which is nearly had).

Bulma gave herself a large pat on the back for surviving the conversation with Vegeta--at first it had mainly relied on her changing the subject (she was not lying when she admitted she had lost herself in their talk about Green), but when it could no longer be avoided, she had confronted Vegeta head on about what had happened and stopped him from saying exactly what she had said to him by saying it first.

There was no doubt in her mind that he was going to say it would never happen again (and it would not!), and Bulma did not delude herself with notions of Vegeta offering for her simply because he had compromised her. Hell, she was not sure what his reaction to what last night was going to be--and frankly she did not want to know.

He had shown no recognition of taking her virginity, and Bulma had to admit, she had not acted like some unschooled maiden when it came to what had happened between them last night. Not that she could help it that her body knew exactly what to do with Vegeta.... Still, she was sure she had not pleased Vegeta as much as the usual women he were with did (she was sure he was used to women who knew what they were doing), and she had prayed that her naivety when it came to lovemaking had not shown through. How dreadfully embarrassing.

Still, as she sat on the couch now, her head thrown back, eyes still closed, Bulma forced herself to stop thinking about Vegeta, and about what had happened between them. What was done, was done--there was no denying that. The only thing she could do was go about, ignoring the pangs she felt whenever Vegeta entered a room, and pretend all was right in her life.

Because she sure as hell was not going to go panting after Vegeta like every other woman in the Ton--that was for damn sure.

She was going to be this seasons incomparable, and she was not going to let some incredibly infuriating, yet devastatingly handsome Duke, change anything about that.

~~&~~
A/N: So it seems like Bulma thinks she can handle the Duke...but only if she can act like Vegeta has had no effect on her. Hmm--let's see how long that will last.... Also, why is that Bulma and Vegeta can't just have an open conversation about their relationship--it seems it would clear up so much that comes between them. But where would the fun in that be?

Until next time!