Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ The Dark Duke ❯ A Night at the Opera ( Chapter 18 )

[ 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 Lemon. You know what that means someone finally gave in an made the first move...But who?

A/N: Readers--you know I love you. Reviewers--your reviews always make me smile, even when I'm in the shittiest of moods, and inspire me to write more. Thank you.

Lilpumpkingirl, for the first time ever you had to add comma's into my chapter. I think its safe to say your lesson of less comma's is more is paying off! Thanks for everything!!

Chapter Eighteen: A Night at the Opera

Vegeta was not a fan of the theater. Watching other people traipse around in costumes and makeup for three hours as they lamented about their lives and love (it was ALWAYS about love Vegeta found), or overact as they tried to be funny was Vegeta's idea of hell, truth be told. He could never understand why going to the theater had gained such popularity among the British peer, as it seemed to be an entertainment staged purposefully for the lower classes. What was the point of watching others' lives, he always thought, when the British aristocratic life was probably one of the most comfortable out there?

And opera...Vegeta gave an extremely loud groan as he thought about opera. Opera was his own personal version of his hell--aging, expanding actors and actresses supposed to be playing heartthrobs half their age and size? Having to sit through three plus hours of wailing that could be said in a third of that time? Yeah--definitely not his idea of a fun night. Especially since he had a million other things that needed to be accomplished that did not involve Vegeta sitting in a darkened theater, trying to pretend he cared about what was happening on the stage before him.

So needless to say, Vegeta had not had high hopes for this night at the theater, particularly after he had found out that it was a Rossini opera--that had a run time of four hours. But to say this night was turning out worse than was expected was the greatest form of understatement. Which spoke high levels to the amount of inner anguish he was feeling at being at the opera that actually had nothing to do with being at the opera. His pain came not from the labored acting on stage, but rather, the two people he was currently seated behind. The only thing that would have made it worse would be if the dowager herself had decided to accompany them (thank Kami she had not!).

The party to the opera had consisted of Mrs. Briefs, Kakarrot, Bulma and himself. Viridian had met them at the theater, and had ingrained himself at Bulma's side the second they had seen each other, fawning over her in a way that made the blood in Vegeta's ears pound so loudly he had troubles focusing on anything other than the fantasy he was currently having of busting the Viscount's head open.

When they had gone to take their seats, Mrs. Briefs had sat as far up in the box as she could as possible--as the ducal box, it was centrally placed with an excellent view of the stage--as well as being located just right so anyone who wanted to be seen sitting in the lavish box would only have to sit...right where Mrs. Briefs was. Maybe she was not as large of a fool as Vegeta had thought previously--though his thoughts on her vanity seemed to be spot on.

Kakarrot had claimed a seat in the back, and had fallen asleep as soon as the stage lights had dimmed, uncaring that he was snoring no matter how many times his mother poked him to wake him up. Vegeta had taken the only other seat in the back, wanting to be as close to the door that led to the hallway so he could slip out and look around during the second act, unnoticed by anyone but those he was sharing the box with. He had already scoped the place out so he knew the most direct route to the backstage, and Vegeta had worn his usual all black so he could easily slip around without being detected. He just needed to wait for the perfect moment to leave his box undetected...

But when he had taken the back seat, he had not expected Bulma and Viridian to sit directly in front of him. And he had not expected his spy instincts to be completely overshadowed by the anger and jealousy that was currently seething through him, making anything but grinding his teeth and fisting his hands to resist pummeling Viridian impossible. He was so struck between wanting to beat the insipid man and grabbing Bulma and taking her somewhere where he could lock her away from everyone who wanted to stare at her like Viridian was currently doing that if Frieza himself had walked into the box Vegeta would be hard-pressed to notice him or do anything about it.

But Viridian's stares were not the only thing that was making Vegeta's angry vein throb in his forehead.

It was Bulma.

Around him, she was prim and proper, and always stayed on task. She no longer spoke back to him, and that fire in her that had drawn him to her in the first place--that tongue of her, her wits--well those were hidden around him. She never smiled that bright wide smile, she never laughed with (or at) him--she was not who Vegeta had come to know her as. She was an emotionless, mechanical robot that would not even stand up to him, or respond to the arch way he spoke to her. She was not that woman around him anymore, and Vegeta hated to admit this, but he missed that Bulma--the emotional spark who had drawn him in, had made him feel--the real Bulma.

Watching her smile and laugh with Viridian, leaning in to whisper with him, her eyes flashing with pleasure--it was driving Vegeta crazy. Sure, she had never been all happy and laughing with him--but her indifference was pushing him closer to insanity. He wanted her to fight with him like they always did--not the cold way she was acting with him now. This past month had done nothing for Vegeta's ardor towards her, and to see her act so indifferent--it irritated him beyond belief that she could act like that to him. Every time they met in that damn library, he wanted to do nothing more than reach across to her and pull her into his lap and kiss her senseless.

He knew she was still that deeply passionate woman deep down, beneath her polite veneer, and he knew that he could unlock it by reminding her of the sparks that flowed freely between them. He refused to believe that their one time of copulating was enough for her. Every time they were in the same room, Vegeta's body would tighten with memories of being inside of her, his cock throbbing to life, hard with the need to be nestled within her again. He was overcome with the need to touch her, to taste her. Not only that...but he was sick of her not treating him like she had the night of the ball before they had even slept together.

He hated to admit it, but they had formed a connection that night that went beyond physical. She had understood his need to be alone (or lonely) that night, and he had found a deeper understanding of her. To see that connection one moment, and then to have it taken away from him the next day? It had smarted to say the least. Mainly whenever he would find her flirting with a room full of suitors. Only to then turn to him and treat him as her respected host--not as the man who had fucked her in the gardens.

Though there was the uncomfortable truth that maybe...maybe Vegeta's immature lovemaking had less than impressed Bulma, and she had decided he was not worth her time, any emotional connection between them be damned. He had only attended a few events since his ball, but he knew what an impression Bulma had made on society. She was the most popular belle of every ball, and was sought after by everyone. That room full of suitors that were in one of his drawing rooms damn near every afternoon all looked to her as if she was Kami's greatest gift to man. He heard rumors in his club that many a fight had broken out between friends, brother's, peer's when they discovered Miss Briefs had only one more dance to give that night, all wanting to claim their last dance for themselves. She was often spoken of at his club, as a matter of fact, and there were bets taken by the more foolhardy men who were betting they could get her as their wife...

Needless to say--Bulma now had a host of options to pick a new lover with, or to even find a husband. And she had found Vegeta lacking, apparently, if her cold behavior towards him was any indication.

Snapping back to the present as Bulma giggled again, Vegeta let out a silent groan. Vegeta's original plan had been to wait for the notoriously long second act of Rossini's latest (longest?) masterpiece, but he could not sit still any longer. Rather than sit here, watching Viridian continue to lean into Bulma to whisper something that would have her smiling at him, or giggling, before she would Ôshhh,' him, pointing back to the stage--he was going backstage now.

Vegeta felt a growl coming on the next time that Viridian leaned into Bulma, and so instead of punching Viridian in the face like he wanted to Vegeta made some mumbled excuses, and swiftly left the box.

He was unsure if anyone even noticed him leaving, what with Viridian and Bulma being in their bubble, Mrs. Briefs more interested in being seen, and Kakarrot...sleeping--but he was supposed to be a good spy, so he resisted the urge he had to slam the door on the way out of the box like a petulant child. Though he could not stop from pouting like one as he wondered if anyone even noticed his disappearance.

~~&~~

It did not take Vegeta long to make his way to the winding backstage of the production, and he patted himself on the back for going through with his plan earlier than he had originally intended. If he avoided the wings of the stage, there was truly no one below the stage where the actors dressing rooms were. He did not know why he did not think of it earlier, but this really was the perfect time to search through the belongings of the people who were in the acting troupe he was currently ducking out of, looking for any clues that would indicate they were connected to Russia or Frieza himself.

Vegeta was able to make his way into the actors, dancers, and chorus stations, leafing through their things as he heard the production going on above him, and he felt his temper returning to him the longer he was away from Bulma and that idiot. He was not having the best of success of looking for clues, though, but it could be because he was currently in the rooms of the lesser members of the troupes shared stations. He had a feeling this ÔGinyu' would be a higher up actor, someone who could be invited into the homes of the peerage and no one would turn their nose up.

The only problem was he knew that the dressing rooms of these actors and actresses would be more heavily under watch, and if discovered inside, he would not have an easy time explaining his presence. Here, at least, he could pretend he was looking for a new mistress. It was entirely common for the male British peerage to find mistresses and lovers among the lower class actresses, and was in fact even expected. Vegeta had never done so, but he could see the attraction for these women as the men often offered them protection and money--two things they were in desperate need of.

As Vegeta reached the last of the shared rooms, he made his way through the mirrors and the contents of the drawers, when he heard the pitter-patter of feet, rumbling towards the room he was currently in. It must have been time for the first act break--and it seemed as if everyone was coming towards him. Shit.

Looking left and right, Vegeta saw a dressing screen, and threw himself behind it, praying no one had to change between the acts.

Not a second later, the sound of chatter filled the room up and Vegeta realized he was in the girls' dressing room--perfect. He was stuck behind a dressing screen in a room full of women--this would not do well for his cover story of looking for a mistress. If he were truly looking or a mistress he would not be hiding behind a screen! His actions seemed more in line with a peeping tom, and Vegeta's pride refused to let rumors start with him coming out looking like a horny fool.

He looked around for windows that he could slip through, but frowned when he realized they were underground--he doubted he would be able to find a window that led anywhere useful. He would just have to wait.

Thankfully, it seemed as if they did not have to change behind the screen that was provided--from the lighted silhouette of the women who he could see they had no problems changing in front of each other. Vegeta frowned as he realized he was away from some young, nubile women changing, and his libido refused to even stir. Damn, what kind of spell had that witch cast on him?

As the time grew on, Vegeta grew more complacent behind the screen, listening to the gossip that flowed freely between the ballerina's and chorus girls. The women in this room...well, they would make the sailors under his command blush with the kind of language and talk they were using. Vegeta could not help but smirk as he listened, wishing he had brought something to take notes with. He considered himself a quite knowledgeable lover...but these young women. Wow.

As he heard a bell tinkle, the women's chatter got louder, like a swell, before it started to move away. Vegeta waited a few minutes for the door to stop opening and closing, and for it to grow completely silent, then took a step past the screen back into the room ready to continue his search.

And froze as he met the surprised eyes of a young woman in the process of powdering her nose in front of the mirror.

Vegeta took a deep gulp, closed his eyes for a second, opened them--than very calmly said, "Hello."

The woman, whose mouth was open, closed slowly as she turned away from the mirror and to him, speaking in her cockney tone, " Ôello."

Vegeta, who was going through all of the voices and gossip he had just heard, felt a charming smile grow on his face as he slipped into the role of dashing Duke, "You are Melinda, aren't you?"

Her eyes grew even wider (he was not aware that was possible and was actually afraid of this girl's eye's popping out), " ÔOw did you know tha'?"

Vegeta kept the charm going, thanking Kami for the gossip he had just overheard, moving closer, "Don't you worry about that. All you need to know is that I know that you just had your heart broken by the lead baritone in this opera."

Her mouth re-opened, but Vegeta smoothly moved, grabbing her hand, placing it between his two warm palms. "How would you like to get some revenge on him by helping me?"

The girl looked suspicious. "I woul', but I Ôave to be back onstage in twenty min--"

Vegeta let go of her hand and reached into his pocket, and held up a ten pound note, knowing it was a good portion of what the girl made in a year, cutting her off, "And earn ten pound?"

The girls mouth closed, and she took the paper money from him, putting it into her drawer, giving him a winning smile as she turned back to face him, winking. "For a tenner, I'll Ôelp you, and if you wan'--give you somethin' to remember me by!"

Vegeta only smirked.

~~&~~

Vegeta ignored the chorus girl as they reached the last room of the hall, the last room he had to explore, that of the lead baritone, placing her on the couch in the room as he conducted his thorough search. She sat on the couch, her arms crossed, watching him while pouting. "I thoug' you wante' an old run-up with me for that kin' o' money."

Vegeta sighed, but continued his search ignoring her. Where was it--he knew it had to be here. He had found it in the last four leading actors rooms, and he was positive that this man would have to be in with the others--found it! A triumphant smirk flitted across his face as he pulled the pin out of the secret drawer he had found by flipping a latch, using some lead to trace the design onto the paper he had traced the other four on before putting it back.

When he examined the paper, he felt that glow he got whenever he did his job right, whenever the pieces started to click into place. There was no doubt in his mind that he had found the ÔGinyu Force,' another set of spies that had long eluded capture. Vegeta had not been sure when he had thought that they were an acting troupe, but after his conversation with Bulma last week he had been more sure. For them to be the very acting troupe he had come to see at the Opera tonight...well that was just plain lucky. Particularly since he had found five other pins with the eagle that was on the Tsar of Russia's flag. A symbol he recognized...especially as the last time he had seen it had been branded on the shoulder of his dead--

"Oh no! Some-un's comin'!"

Vegeta very quickly turned toward the girl as he shoved the paper back into his jacket. As he rushed over to the couch, he pulled his cravat off, opening the top button of his shirt as he sat on the couch, pulling her onto him in one smooth motion. Kami bless her, she did not even flinch as he did so, or when he placed his mouth by her ear whispering, "Quick. Nuzzle my neck."

The girl, a real trouper, did so without having to be told twice, and when the door opened the person on the other side got a real eyeful of two lovers in a twisted embrace as Vegeta let out a loud moan as the girl began to artfully suck at his neck. There was a loud, "Oi!"

Melinda leaped up, looking shocked at being caught, and Vegeta smirked lazily, like a cat who had caught the canary as Melinda shooed the other person off, "Whatcha doin' in here Tommy? Can't a girl get a tupple in peace?"

The lad at the door looked nervous and refused to meet either Vegeta or Melinda's eyes, staring at the floor as his face turned beet red. "Beggin' your pardon Melinda. It's just that I thought I heard someone in Mister G's room, and you know Ôe don' like tha'."

Melinda scowled at the boy, clearly an actual accomplished actress as she lied to the boy, " ÔEll he's on stage now, and I needed a place for a quick one up. Promise you won't tell and I'll give you a pound."

The lad's eyes grew large as he looked at Melinda. "A pound?"

Vegeta, not even waiting for a cue, put his hand in his pocket and flicked a pound in Tommy's direction. The boy eagerly grabbed the coin, and looked at them both. "I didn' see nothin' I swear it!"

He then ran from the room as if the hounds of hell were chasing after him.

Melinda looked back at Vegeta after Tommy had left them, smirking, "Well Ôow about it? Care to finish what we's was just startin'?"

Vegeta stood, all charm as he put a hand over his heart. "A performance worthy of the lead, Melinda--but unfortunately I must say no. It's almost time for you to be on stage, is it not?"

Melinda cursed as she realized the time, then curtseyed. "An honor, sir."

Vegeta bowed back, feeling ridiculous, but knowing this girl had provided him the perfect cover. He would have to make it up to her one day, by making her the lead in a play he was sponsoring. After buying her month's worth of elocution lessons, of course.

Still, Vegeta felt buoyed as he made his way back to the front of the house--his good mood only slightly tempered by the realization he would have to spend the rest of the opera behind Bulma and Viridian.

~~&~~

"Are you sure you wouldn't rather be in there, watching the opera?"

Eighteen waved her hand in a dismissive gesture at the bald man who sat across from her in her large and comfortable carriage, which was parked in front of the London Opera House. "It's a Rossini, and it's an opera. I can already tell you the whole story without watching even a second of it. Someone will fall in love, and someone, or maybe both of the people in love, will die. It's that simple."

Krillin frowned at her as she leaned towards him, holding out her glass for another refill. He quickly refilled it, but still had that frown on his face as she gave him a smile. "I just don't understand why you would come to the opera, then leave and sit in here with me."

Eighteen, rather than answer that question, took a sip of her champagne, keeping her eyes on the man who sat opposite her. Eighteen was not a coward when it came to telling the truth--she would answer that question for him, and quite forthrightly, but the truth was--she had no answer to that question. She was just as confused as Krillin was as to why she would rather be here with him, then in a room full of people who she knew.

When she had first started meeting him, it had been out of amusement, and perhaps a sense of getting some form of revenge on Bulma for stealing Eighteen's spotlight. But as she got to know him, she found herself unwilling to use him like that. He was just so...nice...to her.

So she answered him as truthfully as she could, "It's boring in there. It's the same people, season in, season out--and I'm tired of it."

Krillin looked at her as he too took a sip of his drink, poured from the Widow's extensive sideboard inside of her carriage (a present from a past lover), the frown long gone as he sighed, his usual smile warming his face. "Well, if you're sure."

Eighteen smiled at him, leaning forward, "I am quite sure." As she saw his eyes dart down towards her cleavage, she spoke to him in that husky tone of hers that men seemed to adore, "In fact...if you want to get out of here, maybe go back to my place..."

Krillin suddenly turned tomato red, sputtering into his whiskey, as he got tongue-tied, leaning back so he was as far from her as he could be. "Oh, I...uh...I...uh...I...can't. I can't."

Eighteen frowned as she leaned back in her seat, crossing her arms impishly. She was used to dealing with men who wanted to bed her as quickly as possible, to take pleasure from her beauty, men much more suave than this American was. She could not understand why, almost a month after having met him, Krillin had still not made a move on her--nor had he responded to any of the invitations she had proffered. Or why it seemed to bother her so much.

This past month had been an odd one for their relationship (if one could call whatever was between them that, she thought annoyed). Krillin had come to as many events as he could, acting as a footman to Kakarrot and his annoying sister Bulma, and Eighteen always met up with him so they could talk. They always just talked, and Eighteen found she could listen to the man chatter on for hours. He was such a breath of fresh air, so unlike what she was used to that she found his inane chatter... refreshing. After their first few meetings, she even told him some about her own life, and so far he had not gone screaming to the hills--that was a good thing.

Still, Eighteen recognized that her fascination with Krillin had to be because he was a novelty, and she always left their meeting, warning him that it might be their last...but that he should still come to the next event. Sure enough, at the very next event, she would be inside long enough for her presence to be verified...and she would find herself growing bored, creeping outside, where she knew he would be waiting for her. He was always...so funny. He could make her smile with his stories, and she found an odd comfort in that.

But he had yet to try to kiss her, and every time she leaned in or tried something, he ended up turning beet red, stammering. Eighteen had to admit she was more than a little insulted. Her voice was irritated as she asked him. "Why not?"

Krillin put a hand up to rub the back of his head, and she frowned in annoyance as she recognized the maneuver as his general sign of appeasement. "Aw, you know I can't. I have to be here in case someone wants to leave early."

Eighteen frowned, leaning forward. "Fine. Then come tonight. After everyone has gone to bed--come to my home. My door will be open for you..."

Krillin went even redder (Eighteen would have been more worried about this, except that she was too pissed to care), his discomfort obvious. "Tonight...uh...tonight, it isn't...uh...I can't..."

Eighteen slammed her champagne glass down on the sideboard, uncaring of the champagne that splashed on her. "Then what are we doing here?!"

Krillin's eyes grew large. "What do you mean? We're talking..."

Eighteen frowned at him. "All we ever do is talk. You're the only man I've ever known who hasn't made a move on me!"

Krillin's mouth went slack, and he gulped, "Is that...uh...a bad thing?"

Eighteen froze, the question catching her off-guard as she realized she did not have an answer for that, nor had she ever really considered that.

Krillin took advantage of her silence to speak, "Listen...Eighteen. I like you...a lot. You're beautiful. You're smart--but I'm not like the men you're used to. I'm not polished like the aristocrats, or rich like the men in your life, and I'm not a genius like your late husband. I don't understand...I don't understand why a girl like you would...want someone like me?"

Eighteen stared at him, her mouth opening wide as she tried to speak, before it closed, Eighteen finding herself at a loss for words. Why did she want someone like him? All she would have to do would be to go back into the opera, turn on her charm, and she would find someone else who would want her as their mistress. And yet...she could not...and she found she did not want too. But still, she could not answer Krillin's questions because she had no answer (again!).

Krillin, upon seeing that she was unlikely to speak, sighed. He put his own glass down on the seat next to him, standing. "I have to be getting back."

Eighteen watched him go in silence, but hated herself for finding that she could not let him leave completely without asking, "Will I see you again?"

Krillin, who was already opening her carriage door, paused, keeping his back to her; when he turned back to her, he was smiling. "That depends on you. I'll be in London for a while yet, I think."

Eighteen did not want to say anything else, but she could not help but answer him saying, "I'll look for you at the next ball."

Krillin's smile was still in place, but it grew a mite bit sadder as he gave her a nod. "I'll be waiting in the gardens. As usual..."

Then he was gone, leaving Eighteen feeling maudlin wondering if perhaps she was a bigger coward than she might have realized...

~~&~~

The second act of the opera ended and Bulma found herself making excuses to be left behind in the box as her mother, brother and Viridian all stood, making their way out to where the long intermission found most people congregating, making social connections and the like. Viridian had offered to stay behind, but Bulma had shaken her head. "Absolutely not. It is my own fault for not taking a nap today, and I am only going to sit in the back of this box and take a quick nap before the," (long she interjected in her head), "final act starts."

Viridian had peered at her, but she must have looked sufficiently tired because he only nodded at her, whispering, "Nap where the Viscount was--no one can see you in that corner because of the angle."

She smiled at him, waiting until he had left, behind her mother and brother, before she had moved to that corner. Thank goodness her brother had heard about the complimentary dinner being provided during this intermission. She had been afraid he would have continued napping in the box, and truth be told she needed the alone time.

She was exhausted--that was true, but it had nothing to do with not taking a nap today. She was just so emotionally exhausted from being here, with Vegeta sitting behind her, watching every little thing her and Viridian did together, and having to act as if nothing was wrong with him sitting behind her and glaring at her. She usually enjoyed getting lost in the theater, whether it be Opera or a play, but tonight it was taking all of her energy and focus to not focus on Vegeta--even if he had left before the first act had even ended.

Maybe she really should take advantage of being alone in the box and sleep, like she had told everyone she would, before they came back from eating and socializing. She was exhausted, Kami knew that, and she was sick of play-acting around everyone. She could not even be herself around Goku anymore it seemed, as he seemed to notice how weary she was growing of everything--and she was deathly afraid he would discover the one secret she was keeping from him--that her and Vegeta had slept together. She was not sure how he was going to react to that...but she did not want to find out.

Bulma sighed, and closed her eyes, reasoning that she just needed more sleep. Sleep always made her feel better.

Though when she tried to close her eyes, she found them popping open again as her thoughts caught up with her. Where had Vegeta disappeared too? As exhausting as it was having to act normal when he was in the box with her--it was even harder when he had disappeared, having to act like she was not curious as to where he had gotten off too, and even worrying about him when he had missed the whole of the second act.

She should have known he would not have sat through the whole opera though--he had chosen to attend tonight to follow up on a lead for the Zhelonie case, and what better time to snoop around than when everyone else was being entertained by what was going on in front of them? It did not take her genius to figure this out.

Still, he had been gone a very long time now...

Bulma was just frowning at that thought, when the door opened, and, as if summoned by magic, Vegeta strode through. He looked around the empty box, frowning, his eyes narrowing when they caught Bulma, staring at him from the corner with large eyes.

He had caught her unawares, and Bulma had been unable to stop the smile that had grown on her face as she told him in her perfectly normal, emotion-full voice, "I was just wondering where you had gotten off to!"

Vegeta frown deepened, and Bulma realized it was because she was smiling like an idiot. This was wrong--she needed to act as cool and as calm around him as she usually did, not like who she really was. The last thing she wanted was for him to know she cared about him or anything he had to say or do.

Vegeta said nothing as she wiped the smile from her face, though he observed her with black eyes as he asked, "Where is everyone else? Where's your lapdog?"

Bulma was the one who frowned this time, as Vegeta moved further into the box, closing the door (locking it, Bulma noticed). She did not pretend to not know who he was talking about, and she matter of factly informed him, "He has gone off to meet with some friends, and mom and Go...Kakarrot are off at the buffet."

Vegeta nodded, moving into the box and sat in the chair in the back row, the one he had occupied earlier, and Bulma tried to act like he was not there. Except, maybe because her guard was down, or because she was so damn tired of acting around everyone, she could not stop herself from answering him like she would have in the past, bickering with him, "He's not my lap dog, though."

Vegeta snorted, his arms and legs crossed, his face forward, not looking at her as he answered her, "Please--you have him eating out of the palm of your hand, and you know it."

Bulma frowned at that. "I do not." Her frown grew deeper as she tried to explain, "I mean I do not have him eating out of the palm of my hand. Not that I do not know it. Because I don't need to know it..." She trailed off as she felt her old flush rush to her cheeks, and she only sat back in her chair, muttering, "We just happen to get along."

Vegeta quirked an eyebrow, turning to face her as he spoke, "Is that what you keep telling yourself?" She looked at him, curious, and he continued, "That you two get along?" She gave a curt nod, and he shook his head. "How can you really believe that? That the two of you get along. You and I both know that you must keep up your wall of perfect poise at all times with him--do you really think he can get to know you with that wall you must always keep up?"

Bulma felt her mouth growing slack as he spoke--he had hit on the truth right there, had he not? She wanted to answer but found she could not--she was tongue-tied. How did she know Viridian really got along with her when she had yet to share anything of her true self with him? What surprised her more, though, was that Vegeta would recognize this in her. She had made herself forget that they had a real understanding of each other's loneliness, and for him to speak so truthfully in front of her...it caused her skin to prickle with awareness.

But she peevishly said, "What do you care? He is just someone to pass the time with at events, since you have forbidden me to spend too much time with my brother."

Vegeta glared at her sitting up, his body facing her as he angrily spoke, "So you just jump from one man to the other, then? Is that it?"

Bulma, hearing animosity behind his words, grew confused. What the hell was he talking about? But her confusion was second to her anger at the way he spoke to her. "How dare you! I just jump from one man to another? What in Kami's name are you talking about?!"

Vegeta stood, stalking closer to her, standing above her and Bulma tried to shrink back in the chair. Her vision shrank so it was only her and Vegeta, and her heart began to race, little bolts of electricity running from her center through her skin, as he loomed over her like that. She did not like the feeling of claustrophobia it gave her, but she found an odd pleasure in being wrapped in his heat again. His snappish tone caught her off guard though, as he spoke to her, "Is that how you operate, Bulma? You find a man, toy with him, and once you are done, you move on?"

Bulma's mouth was wide open, even as she felt her body yearn to move closer to him, to envelop herself in his warmth and heat. "What are you talking about? I have never done th--"

"What about what happened between us, then? Are you denying that you used me once for pleasure, and then moved on once you found that I was lacking?"

Bulma's mouth was wide open, and she stood from the seat, suddenly feeling the urge to flee. She tried to push past him, needing to be away from him but he was an immovable rock. She began to feel panicky, she was losing her head around him. "For one, I do not use men simply for pleasure! And for two, I thought we agreed not to talk about it!"

Vegeta's hands slammed on either side of the wall behind her head, caging her in with his body as he leaned closer. "Wrong--you gave me no choice but to not talk about what happened between us!" Bulma felt herself growing more and more heated, and she tried to duck away from him, but he would not let her. "What's the matter Bulma? Can't stand the tension of being around Viridian and me at the same time? Don't like having your past indiscretions all sitting in the same box with your newest one?"

Bulma's anger mottled with her confusion, making her whole face turn red as she looked at him, her flashing blue eyes and trembling lips tempting him more than she could ever know. Her voice was sharp, when she responded, "How dare you! What is the meaning of this--indiscretions? You're the only one and we only had a one time thing, Vegeta!"

He almost crowed in sheer delight, pleased just to see her have emotions around him again. Finally! He was back to seeing the real Bulma--his blood began to boil, the thundering in his ears making it impossible to hear her as his eyes focused on her moving lips, his body tightening with the need to touch her again. Touch her, feel her, taste her--hell, he wanted all of her. But his lust was mixing with his anger, and he found himself unable to grasp what she was saying, instead saying things he had promised to never admit to anyone, let alone Bulma. "Did I not pass the test the first time Bulma, is that the problem? Was I not man enough for you, so you just move on through me to the next victim?"

"What test?! What victim?! You're the one who seduced me!" Bulma's anger was growing more heated, but so was her body. This was the closest her and Vegeta had been since the night in the garden, and her body was already aching for her to lean forward those last few inches and get him to stop talking by kissing him uncontrollably. What's more, her skin was growing tight, and a pool of liquid fire was spreading between her legs as her hips unconsciously angled towards Vegeta.

As Vegeta moved his head closer to hers though, presumably to shout more utter nonsense at her, Bulma noticed something, her confusion and anger redirecting as she put her face closer to his neck. "Is that a lipstick smear on your neck?!"

Vegeta did not even look, or try to swipe at it, only staring at her, his black eyes boring into hers. "If it is, what does it matter to you? You have made yourself perfectly clear on the matter of whether or not you think I am an adequate enough lover for you, Miss Briefs!"

Bulma's eyes grew into slits, and she fisted her hands, resisting the urge she had to start clawing out Vegeta's eyes. Was he seriously just returning from an assignation with another woman, and he was standing here accusing her of looking for a new lover?! The nerve of him! He was making no sense, but it did not take a genius to figure out that his pride was what was hurting the most right now--what with all of his hints about his male ego being damaged.

She was so angry at him, she could not but help and act flippant (as jealousy began to gnaw at her insides), as she went for the emotional jab rather than the physical one, "That's it exactly Vegeta, you found me out! You were inadequate, and I would rather sleep with all of the gentry in England that let you touch me again!"

Her words seemed to push Vegeta over some ledge, as he hissed at her, "Inadequate?! You find me inadequate?!" Before she could respond, he grabbed her, wrapping his arms around her body as he pulled her flush against him, the angry jutting of his erection against her lower belly shocking her. "I will show you how adequate I am, dammit!"

His mouth slammed onto her own, his lips working against her own as he stole all of the breath from her lungs with a kiss like that. This kiss for him was all about possession, and he was not giving her an inch to move, kissing the life out of her as his tongue found its way into her mouth, plundering her mouth for all that it was worth.

Bulma struggled in his grasp at first, but his arms were like steel bands around her, and the more she wiggled, the closer she grew to him. The past month of denying herself even a modicum of desire around her collapsed on her in that moment, as the heat of his body, and that masculine scent that was all him began to suffocate her, and before she knew it--a dam inside of her broke as well, and she found herself wrapping her arms around his back, going into his coarse hair, pressing him closer to her as she began to kiss him back. Her bones turned to heated jelly, her body softening as she pressed against him, fighting him even as they kissed.

The kiss was full of fury and their anger, the two of them seeking dominance over the other as Bulma opened her mouth further, letting his tongue clash with her own, meeting kiss for kiss. One of his hands tugged at her hair, angling her mouth so he could have better access to it, before he returned to her mouth, sucking the very breath out of her body with his fiery kisses. She sucked on his tongue, and he pressed her closer to him, seeming to want to do nothing more than absorb her into his very body.

Bulma's whole body throbbed to life with the passion between them, her breasts growing plump with the need to be touched, her hips pressing into his, a satisfying groan escaping her lips as she felt his erection pressing further into her lower abdomen. Knowing she could do this to him, drive him this crazy--it sparked something inside of her, something powerful, something that made her glad to be a woman who could bring this strong man to such passion. She might not be able to control herself around him, but dammit--neither could he.

He swallowed her groan, then ripped his mouth from her own, leaving a trail of kisses up her jaw line, ending at her earlobe where he gave it a sharp nip, whispering into her ear, "You think I'm inadequate--you have not seen a damn thing yet."

Before she could wonder at that, he pressed her back down, so she was sitting, and got on his knees between her legs, pressing against her as he latched onto her again, leaving her breathless with the ardor behind those kisses. She wrapped her body against his, needing to feel him, cursing the amount of clothing that was separating them from having skin on skin contact. Kami--she burned, needing to feel his warm skin against her own, needing to feel him inside of her again.

He left her mouth with a soft groan, nuzzling her neck as he kissed, and sucked, stopping at the pounding base of her neck to nip at it as it pounded feverishly. Before she could stop him, he used his mouth and hands to lower the front of her dress so one of her breasts bounced free from its confine.

He growled as he saw her naked flesh, and looked up at her, smirking, before he lowered his mouth to her breast. Tracing the aureole with his tongue, he playfully lapped at her, causing the already taut peak to tighten further, reddening from his expert ministrations. She did not know why he would ever think she thought he was inadequate as a lover, but if it meant him ravishing her like he was currently doing, she would go to her grave swearing that he was the world's worst lover. As he continued to play with her breast, he kissed her right on the tip of her breast, before sucking the nipple into his mouth, his tongue playing with the sensitive tip as she wiggled beneath his ministrations, her body turning to molten lava, as he sucked, nipped and licked at her.

Her legs, seeming to be full of fever, moved restlessly around the hard length of his body, wrapping around him, pulling him closer to her aching center, wishing that they were somewhere, anywhere but here. She needed to have the hard length of him pressed against her, to relieve some of the aching in her core, his attention to her breast seeming to drive her even crazier, even more needier than she would have thought possible.

He finally let go of her nipple with a loud pop, as he grinned at her. "This is just the beginning, Woman--I hope you can stop yourself from screaming as I make you cum."

Bulma, knowing that their anger and passion were driving them in equal force, only bit out at him, "Big words Vegeta. I'm not sure you can back them up." Vegeta glared at her, growling as he used his arms to unwrap her legs from his body, before he put his hands on her ankles, guiding her legs apart as he pushed the skirts of her dress up, just to her knees, before he ducked beneath them.

Before Bulma could really think about what he was doing, Vegeta left a hot, open mouth kiss on the inside of her thigh, and Bulma let out a gasp.

Surely he was not going to--oh my God, what was he doing with his tongue?!

As his feverishly hot tongue traced along the exposed skin at the top of her silk stocking, Bulma heard a loud ripping sound as her under things were ripped further open as the full palm of Vegeta's hand pressed against her heated mound. Her heated flesh warmed further and strained towards Vegeta's fingers as they ran up and down the lips of her sex. Using his long, strong middle finger to press between her nether lips, Bulma had to squeeze her legs into Vegeta's shoulders as he inadvertently pressed on her clit, causing her body to start having mini-seizures.

She heard a dark chuckle, and felt Vegeta's hands guiding Bulma's thighs so that they rested on his broad shoulders, before her used his strong hands beneath her bottom, guiding her so she was spread open, angled before him as he brought his head closer to her sex. He stopped right at the outside of her, and she could feel his warm breath fan on her overly sensitive skin, causing her to shiver as he spoke, "You should never challenge a Saiyan, Woman, unless you are ready to deal with the consequences."

Bulma leaned back in the chair as she finally felt him press his lips to her sex, leaving a feather light kiss against her, before he spiked his tongue out, running up the length of her slit as his fingers had just done, before thrust into her folds, reaching, searching for that over sensitive bundle of nerves that crowned her sex, laving at it with that wicked tongue of his.

Bulma's head lolled back against the wall, as Vegeta began to lightly lap at her clit, before he started to apply more pressure, his tongue going in circles around her, then going to licking at her heated peak, over and over, before he put his lips around her, sucking her lightly into his mouth. Bulma put a fist in her mouth to try and muffle a broken sob as the sensations he was evoking in her began to reach feverish peak after feverish peak--this was so much different than the last time. As he lapped at her, alternating between using his tongue to tickle her body into submission and sucking her into his mouth, having the blood rush into her clit, Bulma felt her eyes roll back into her head as the sensations completely overwhelmed her.

When she thought it was going to be too much, as if her body was feeling too much to be real, she felt him slide one finger into the wet sheath of her body, pressing as a counterpoint to what his tongue was already doing to her. His mouth and finger began to work in tandem, and Bulma felt herself let go completely as she lost all control of what was happening to her body.

Bulma's hips began to buckle against him of their own accord, and as he slid in another finger to play with her, pistoning in and out of her body as his mouth continued its delicious torture of her, Bulma covered her mouth with both hands as she felt her whole body seize up, her legs going stock still straight, as if she had just been shocked, her whole body exploding in a sensational rush of heat that had her sobbing with relief as Vegeta's fingers continued to manipulate her. She did not just hit the peak once and come down, like she had that other time--he teased her over and over again until she could finally no longer feel, her whole body wreathed in sensations too wonderful, too large to explain.

If she had not been covering her mouth with her hands, she would have brought the house down with her cries, but as it was, Bulma prayed that the chatter of people talking would be enough to cover her loud cries and moans. Vegeta, feeling her body soften beneath him with completion, sucked at the over-sensitized skin for a few moments, absorbing the taste of her, before withdrawing from her. He pressed a few errant kisses to the exposed skin he saw on her legs, unable to resist the taste of her flesh, before he appeared from underneath her skirts again, a wickedly devilish smirk on his face, as he looked at her, triumph in his eyes.

He met Bulma's glazed look as he pulled her clothes back into place, righting them as much as he could, before he pulled her in for another kiss, a softer one than the animalistic one they had shared before, claiming her with his mouth as she dazedly kissed him back, feeling her body start to throb to life again. How was this even possible? She was sure her body was going to explode from the sensations he evoked in her--to feel her body start to ache for him again...

Bulma knew there was so much more to the act, and she knew she would not feel a true completion unless he was inside of her again, and she tried to wrap her legs around him, pulling him closer to her already aching core.

Vegeta broke the kiss, surprising her, and unwrapped her legs from his body. "Not here--now is not the time for me to show you exactly how many times I can make you cry out like that in an hour. Intermission is almost over, and your lap dog will be back then."

Bulma looked at him, uncomprehending, before she realized that people were indeed filing into their seats below them, the chatter in the opera house growing louder as people settled in for the last act.

She swiftly looked at him again, and muttered, "Oh no. I must look a wreck."

Vegeta smirked at her, reaching at her hair to pat at it, before dropping one last kiss on her mouth as if he was unable to stop himself. His tone was so much more...relaxed than she had ever heard it, and she grew confused. She knew he was still aroused, and yet he was acting calmer than she was. "Not a wreck. But a bit peaked. Perhaps explain by saying you had a very vivid nightmare?"

Bulma looked up at Vegeta, suspicious. "Did you just...make a joke?"

Vegeta walked to the door, the smile transforming his face as it grew. "Not at all. I was just giving you a helpful suggestion."

Bulma watched as he reached for the lock to the door, the smile driving her blood to a frenzy. When he looked like that, it took all of her willpower not to jump him. "You're certainly in the best mood I've seen you in weeks."

Vegeta's eyes met her own, his hand on the lock as he lazily taunted, "Maybe that's because I know you can never deny the attraction between us again, or that I am inadequate. Not with the way you were moaning and groaning." He chuckled wickedly at that, and Bulma could only stare, her mouth wide open, as he unlocked the door, then sauntered to his side of the box sitting. As she watched him, he faced the stage, the smirk unable to leave his face, looking very much like he had not a care in the world.

Not a minute later, Goku and her mother came back into the box, Goku rubbing his stomach, "Hey-a sis! You missed out on the most delicious feast! There was roast duck, and ham, and braised ribs, and...hey--why are you all red?"

Bulma, who had been trying to keep her face in the shadows, felt the blush rising to her cheeks, staining them even more hopelessly red as she met her brother's curious eyes. She felt herself at a loss for words, but then, as her eyes flicked past Goku, to where Vegeta was staring at her, still wickedly smirking, she forced her eyes back to Goku as she muttered, "Nightmare. It was very vivid. Got me going a bit."

Mrs. Briefs made a cooing sound as she took the empty seat next to Bulma. "Oh dear Bulma. Do you want me to sing to you like I used to when you were scared?"

Both Goku and Bulma, having grown up with their mother's singing voice instantaneously answered, "No!"

Mrs. Briefs blinked, looking perplexed as to why both of her children were yelling at her. "I was only trying to help!" Mrs. Briefs turned her attention back on Bulma, already smiling like she had not just been insulted. "When we get back to the house deary, leave your bedroom door unlocked, that way I can come in and comfort you if you have another nightmare."

Bulma, who somehow caught Vegeta's suggestive gaze over her mother's concerned one, frowned, shaking her head. "Won't be necessary mother. I'm a big girl, and I can take care of myself." She waited a tick, then added, louder, "And my door definitely won't be unlocked tonight."

Mrs. Briefs stared at her oddly. "Oh...kay...well, if that's what you want."

Bulma firmly met Vegeta's gaze over her mother's shoulder, trying to look sure. "It most definitely is."

Vegeta's smirk turned into a full on wicked grin at that.

~~&~~
A/N: Oh man, naughty, naughty. The scene at the opera is one of those I've had in my head since I first envisioned this story--I am finally so glad to see it on paper, and be every bit as hot as I imagined it would be (if I do say so myself). Ha ha.

So I have a question for all of my loyal readers: Do you guys prefer that I post longer chapters (like this one) more sporadically, or have shorter chapters that go up on a more regular basis? I only ask because I go through phases where I get a lot of writing done, and I don't know whether its best to put it all out there at the same time, or have it come out on a weekly/bi-weekly schedule. Let me know what you think!