Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ The Price You Pay ❯ Chapter Twenty-Five ( Chapter 25 )

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The Price You Pay: Chapter Twenty-Five

Vegeta stared at the woman for a long time. He could never remember a time he'd been this confused or furrowed his eyebrows in consternation so often.

Her coloration is so rare: blue hair, blue eyes, pale skin.

In the thousands of planets he'd purged in the name of the Saiya-jin Empire he could never remember encountering one with creatures similar to her. There was something graceful and wise behind her hooded lashes, gentle blushes, and coy comments. His thoughts betrayed him. From the moment he'd laid eyes on her she'd seemed familiar but not in a vague deja vu kind of way; in and intimate and all knowing sort of way. It had taken him completely aback.

He didn't know why, but he could remember touching her, holding her, burying himself inside of her until she screamed his name over and over again.

This trick, whatever it might be was a damned good one. He disliked thinking the worst of such a frail but beautiful creature. Females like her were in short supply anywhere in the galaxy. There was more there than just a pretty face, and he intended on discovering what that 'more' was.

She'd mentioned his name several times while tossing and turning in a fitful sleep and, despite it all, he didn't have it in him to wake her. How did she know him? He was one of the most powerful and well-known monarchs in the galaxy, but she'd said his name like she owned him. She'd spoken to him as an equal in a way a companion would. As the Saiya-jin no Ouji, he was always treated with condensation or a deep respect rooted in fear of his insurmountable power—never with equality. And the connotation she used when speaking his name was like a caress.

"Vegeta..." she mumbled it again, this time almost at the point of tears.

How can I torment her so? I've never met her before...

His thoughts ran everywhere. He didn't know what to think. Had he met her before?

This is insanity.

His thoughts sounded vaguely familiar to him, as if they'd been whispered to him by another entity.

Vegeta ran his fingers through his course hair and sighed. He was the Saiya-jin no Ouji and the most powerful warrior on the planet, these fits of emotional turmoil were definitely not his forte. He forced himself to stop looking at her. He needed to know what was going on and now.

Who are you, onna? Why do you have that mark?

He looked back down at her sleeping form. Her eyebrows were tightly knit together. There was something other worldly about her as she lay there in his bed. It was probably the fact that she didn't seem out of place. She was such a contrast to the gothic nature of the palace but she seemed to belong there. Everything on the planet was dark and primitive in nature and this particular woman was a refined pure light amongst it all.

How is it that I seem to remember everything and yet nothing at the same time?

There was a light sweat covering every inch of her slender body. Her damp hair clung to her forehead and once again, without thought, Vegeta brushed the persistent locks from her face. The touch seemed to put her at rest momentarily and she smiled in her sleep.

Odd.

Thought Vegeta. He sat down beside her on the bed and immediately Bulma began to sleep more evenly.

She reacts to my proximity?

It was getting late. Still, for some unfathomable reason, he was opposed to waking her and sending her to the quarters he'd had arranged for her earlier that evening.

What has become of me? What has caused me to be affected by such a fragile weakling?

Vegeta was disgusted with himself. He stood and looked for the nearest chair to sleep in.

"No, don't go," whispered the strange woman in a broken voice. He could tell she was dreaming but couldn't help but sense a duality in her voice. It wasn't just the man in her dreams she was addressing but him as well. He and the other were the same. He looked at her. She reached out blindly with one glistening arm. The candle light made her head, bare shoulders, and outstretched arm shimmer in the darkness.

You are such a mystery.

He moved closer to her and took her soft hand in his own calloused palm. She tugged him gently but with a sort of strength that only came with need. He grunted.

Rather direct, isn't she?

Vegeta thought in amusement, even though he was aware that she was doing everything in her sleep. He couldn't sense any thought patterns from her that denoted alertness. After releasing her hand, he removed his heavy formal cape and the long sleeved restrictive shirt he'd been wearing at his Senate meetings all morning. How he hated the formality of politics. He slipped off his boots and climbed onto the bed beside her.

After a few moments, he considered whether or not he thought it wise to get under the bedding. She was already covered completely in sweat and his nearness to her would only add to her discomfort. His body temperature was several degrees higher than her own. She turned toward him and scooted closer.

To hell with it. Everything will change in the morning anyway.

He thought. She'd go to her own quarters and he'd be sure to rise before she even knew he'd been there. He slipped under the covers and drew himself up beside her. He was startled as she inched toward him and wrapped her arms around his torso possessively. The flimsy under garments she was wearing did little to stop the majority of her skin from pressing up against his bronzed flesh and Vegeta hissed at the sudden contact. He lay there for a few moments not knowing what to do before deciding to wrap his free arm around her waist.

Her face was right before his on the pillow. Her breathing had calmed and she lay restfully beside him with a slight curve to her lips. A sign of complete contentment.

"Thank you," she whispered in her sleep before inching forward and placing a gentle kiss upon his unsuspecting lips. Vegeta felt his entire body stiffen as all of his muscles contracted.

I'll deal with this in the morning.

Thought Vegeta as he once again brushed her hair from her eyes.

Goodnight, little one. In the morning this will really all just have been a dream.

~~~~~<(((((|||)))))>~~~~~

Bulma woke to find herself in an empty room. The same room she'd been in the previous night.

So much for all of this being a dream.

She thought with defeat. This planet was real and her stay on it, real as well.

The dream she'd been having for the last few nights seemed to persist even here. Vegeta was in full armor and going off, leaving her all alone. She felt desperate, utterly wrapped up in her solitude when suddenly he'd taken her hand. It was reassuring in a way Bulma never could have imagined. She didn't remember anything after that except for the wave of peace that surrounded her afterwards. She couldn't ever recall sleeping that soundly.

The room was already saturated in Vegeta's scent. She could smell his scent even more strongly all over her. Had he been there?

He couldn't have been. I would have known.

She thought in mild confusion. It must have just been from sleeping in his bed.

Beside the bed was a chair with a long black robe draped over it. Glancing around the room, Bulma assumed it must have been left there for her. The only clothes she had to her name at that point were her PJs anyway and those were currently MIA. There was a door in the wall opposite her that Bulma prayed led to a bathroom.

The befuddled Earthling sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. She felt disoriented. Her equilibrium wasn't quite right but after a few moments, Bulma rose and picked up the robe. It was made of a fine black velvet lined with red satin.

Vegeta's favorite colors.

She thought with a sigh. The colors of death and blood.

The carpet felt wonderfully plush beneath her feet as she walked over to the adjoining bathroom and took in the decor. It was gothic, like everything else in the palace.

These people really need to reconsider their death and torture motif.

But there was something else there—something to the dark themes, gold trim, and borders that added a sense of simplicity. It was magnificent, but sparse. It practically screamed Vegeta.

So this was all he was missing back on Earth.

She couldn't blame him for longing for his homeworld and this grandeur. The decor of the bathroom was no different as she padded across the large tiled room. The floor was black with a crimson mark of the House of Vegeta-sei in the center.

That must be their coat of arms.

She thought. The tub was black marble.

Kami, does everything in this place scream death and destruction or what?

The whole palace seemed to be done in dark, foreboding colors. She turned the copper nozzle in the tub and was greeted by a gentle flow of warm water. Beside the bath was a glass bottle tinted brown that looked expensive and barely used. Her curiosity piqued, Bulma reached over and grabbed the smooth, cylindrical bottle, removing the glass ball cap.

Bath oils.

She thought pleasantly, while indulging in the gentle aroma of the oil. It was a spice she couldn't quite put her finger on but it was wonderful nonetheless. She poured a rather generous amount in the tub of steaming water before replacing the cap and putting the bottle back where she'd found it.

Setting them down on the black marble sink, Bulma removed her undergarments and lowered herself into the comfort of the steaming water.

Oh, to be clean again.

She thought as she let the water rinse away her sweat and puzzled, lingering thoughts.

~~~~~<(((((|||)))))>~~~~~

"Well?" asked the Saiya-jin no Ouji impatiently as he stood in the communications room.

"We have no idea, sire. None of the systems we have encountered as of thus far have turned up with a species similar to hers," responded Radditz. The prince was beginning to look irked, an expression which always worried him.

"We have one of the most extensive data bases in the galaxy and you're telling me that you haven't even found one clue that links her to any of those systems?" asked Vegeta in a skeptical, menacing voice. His left eyebrow was beginning to twitch.

"That is correct, sire." Radditz stared down at the other man without any hint of emotion on his face.

"That is completely unacceptable. You better find something, and soon, Commander, or you may be forced to consider what being flash fried feels like," warned Vegeta as he turned and left the room. He needed to approach the onna again and ask her directly. Hopefully she could give him a straight answer this time without fainting. As for now, there were more pressing matters at hand.