Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ The Price You Pay ❯ Chapter Six ( Chapter 6 )

Insert standard disclaimer here.

 

The Price You Pay: Chapter Six

 

Bulma's conversation with Yamcha may have ended painlessly, but her little scuffle in the kitchen with Vegeta, had not. As it turned out, there were some things he could say to make her unhappy.

 

The sadistic asshole.

 

The prideful Saiya-jin no Ouji had proceeded to insult Yamcha in explicit detail and then brought up some painful memories about their relationship she would have rather forgotten. It was as if he were forcing her to relive every single exasperating moment she had ever had while knowing Yamcha.

 

Bastard.

 

She'd been calling Vegeta that more often lately.

 

And he deserves it.

 

Even after making up with Yamcha, Bulma couldn't help but admit to seeing some truth in Vegeta's words.

 

`He left you for another woman, and then you let him crawl back to you with his tail between his legs. Really, onna. How pathetic are you?'

 

The words still stung. What was worse was that he was right. She'd been a fool to let Yamcha come back to her.

 

But that was then, this is now.

 

Was she just trying to reassure herself that she'd done the best thing? Making up with Yamcha had most certainly felt right, but the decisions she'd made before and leading up to their reconciliation had not been good ones. She sighed.

 

We made up. That's all that matters now.

 

Vegeta had nothing to do with her relationship with Yamcha. He was a totally separate issue. It was just that Vegeta had this inhuman ability to get under her skin and make her doubt all her decisions concerning her ex-`mate,' as Vegeta preferred to call him.

 

What Vegeta thought couldn't possibly matter. Bulma sighed before continuing her mental tirade.

 

Even more infuriating was that Vegeta always seemed to have some truth behind his biting comments. Despite all her scientific brilliance, she couldn't figure out how that was possible. The part that she was overlooking, perhaps the most important part, was that because she considered Vegeta a `totally separate issue' he was able so see things in her relationship—the flaws—that she could not.

 

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

 

Vegeta was finding it hard to understand what he'd said to the onna that made her so furious. Could she not see that her mate had betrayed her? Didn't she have any pride? Bulma may have had a Saiya-jin temper, but she undeniably lacked Saiya-jin disposition. She was full of contradictions.

 

Bulma didn't want to believe that Yamcha had done all the things he had, so she made it up in her mind that he hadn't. It was pathetic, to say the least, but Vegeta couldn't blame her. Well, maybe he could.

 

It was one thing to cheat on your mate. It was a totally different thing to dishonor your mate in such a fashion and then come back on hands and knees begging for forgiveness.

 

No honor whatsoever.

 

There was no reason to dwell on this. Vegeta had been thinking about the onna for far longer than he would have ever liked to admit.

 

Damn the moon cycle.

 

Now that the Khon'daia na was in full swing, Vegeta found himself dwelling more on the situation between the onna and her mate. That wasn't a good idea. Any attachments between himself and one of the Chikyuu-jin could be dangerous. As much as he loathed the onna, he didn't want her to fall victim to the emotional swings or the hormones that would be pumping non-stop through his body. There were far too many things that could go wrong.

 

He still enjoyed watching her shrivel back in fear, but that was always fear that he had purposely created. He didn't want to get into a situation where he wasn't the one controlling what his body was doing, and if she got him angry, that was exactly what would happen.

 

Sure, Vegeta could gruesomely damage the woman, but he'd never allow it. Not just because of Goku's threat, but also because she was the only person on the whole planet that could challenge him fearlessly and get away with it. The onna wasn't afraid of him, or if she was, she didn't let it show. Every so often he could smell fear on her, but that was becoming rare. He was even starting to believe that she had become immune to his threats.

 

I've threatened her too many times without following through.

 

It wasn't always easy being wicked and getting away with it.

 

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

 

A couple of days passed and neither one of the murderous duo crossed paths.

 

Whether it be intentional or just coincidence, Bulma was really enjoying her quiet time. As for the Saiya-jin no Ouji, well, he spent all his time in the GR. Even more time than before they had gotten into their little scuffle, if that was possible.

 

He's so odd at times.

 

Not that Bulma had any way of knowing the real reason why Vegeta was avoiding her. Bulma was blissfully unaware that Vegeta's avoiding her stemmed from the idea that if he did confront her, and they got into an argument, he would most likely blast her. And Vegeta was sure that if they got into an argument, and he actually pondered the idea of blasting her, well, it would have already been too late.

 

Bulma had actually found herself warming up to the high and mighty Saiya-jin no Ouji despite herself. There was more to him than the tough guy that he let everyone else see. The hardships he'd endured while under Freeza's rule must have been overwhelming.

 

She and the battered prince had become rather friendly around one another. At least as friendly as one could be with an obnoxious member of royalty. Sometimes they even lasted a half-hour without arguing. When she was feeling really brave, she asked him about Vegeta-sei. Those conversations never lasted very long before would catch himself and cut her off.

 

Bulma sighed mentally. He was one tough cookie, but one she definitely wanted to crack.

 

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

 

In the past, training was always something the Saiya-jin no Ouji depended on to get his mind off of his problems, but at the moment, it wasn't working. He'd arisen to his entire body covered in a cold sweat. His lips were nearly purple and he ached all over. Every single fiber of his being felt like it was being stretched farther than any natural thing should ever be allowed.

 

The first thing he'd done was take an ice-cold shower. That had soothed a few of the symptoms. His body temperature was way above normal, somewhere around 115 degrees, about seven degrees higher than the normal Saiya-jin body temperature.

 

He made it a point to avoid the onna. The very last thing he needed was for her to see him in this state. She was bound to ask him what was wrong, and any contact between the two of them could be disastrous. He was just going to have to find someway to avoid her. Ye gods, what was he thinking? There was no way he could honestly believe that he would be able to avoid her for the full month.

 

Damn hormones.

 

If his temper didn't get her, then his hormones would.

 

Well, there was enough of that. He shifted his thoughts to becoming the Legendary, how good it would feel to possess that power—to hold the future of the universe in his hands.

 

The power Kakkarot wields yet does not understand.

 

Even if Goku overpowered him, Vegeta wasn't going to let that last for long. The Earthing had no way of knowing what it meant to Ascend. The spiritual Ascension to the level of the Legendary could only be understood by a true Saiya-jin raised on Vegeta-sei. It had to be earned, not gained by chance, or the words of a long-forgotten prophecy. At least he hoped.

 

It was getting late, and the Saiya-jin had gotten up earlier than normal. It was time to rest his aching, throbbing, overheated body.

 

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

 

Bulma glanced at the stainless steel clock sitting on her lab desk. It was one in the morning and she still hadn't been able to break down the third compound. When Vegeta had more or less ordered a cease fire between the two of them and gone on avoiding her, she decided it was the wisest thing not to pester him about the compounds.

 

Her eyes felt like they were going to fall out ,and the weight of her glasses was crushing her nose. They were the same glasses her father got for her when she was a teenager. They were too big for her, but she insisted upon keeping them; claiming that the large size helped her see the full range of her peripheral vision.

 

It was definitely time to hit the sack. She had the next day off, so it wasn't like she had to worry about waking up early to see a client. That was a relief. It was good to know that one day out of the week she could refrain from going to work and actually indulge in the more decadent things in life—like sleep. Naturally, that sleep was only allowed for as long as Vegeta's patience lasted. His grumbling stomach had woken her up in the early hours of the morning on her day off on more than one occasion. But since they weren't talking, she supposed she wouldn't have to worry about that for once.

 

After making sure all the chemicals and tools she'd used were back in their proper places, Bulma left the lab and locked the thick door behind her. The night sky was very clear—much clearer than it had been in quite some time. The city lights usually overpowered the stars' faint glow. It was very pretty. Breathtakingly so.

 

The front door to the Briefs' residence was unlocked, just as it always was. Her mother said that she never knew when an old friend or acquaintance might pop in and she wanted to make sure they could get in easily. Bulma thought her mother was more than a little off in her logic. If friends could get in easily, then so could the people who weren't friends. People who either had intentions of stealing some of the equipment in their house or those were hired to kill her father. In his 57 years of life, her father had gotten more death threats than any man deserved.

 

Vegeta would never let that happen.

 

It was true. She was sure that if Vegeta sensed any unfamiliar ki in the household he would get up and blasted them, no questions asked. Nevertheless, Bulma locked the door behind her as she entered.

 

The house was nearly pitch black, but after living in the same house for 27 years, Bulma could make her way through it blindfolded. She placed her keys on the counter and found her way up the stairs on the way to her room.

 

Once on the second floor, she noticed that Vegeta's door was slightly ajar, a faint glow was escaping through the crack below his door. It piercing the darkness of the hallway. Her curiosity piqued, Bulma slowly opened the door.

 

The window that led out to the balcony their rooms shared was open and the curtains were flapping with the gentle breeze. Whatever was glowing, it was out on the balcony. Bulma silently wondered how it was that she hadn't noticed the light before entering her home. Even though the front door was on the other side of the house, the light was quite noticeable.

 

After a few minutes of inching her way to the balcony, Bulma found the source of the strange light. Vegeta was hovering a few feet in the air with his legs crossed in a meditative position. His eyes were closed and a light sweat covered his entire body. He was wearing a pair of black silk pajama bottoms she'd bought him for Christmas. The material clung to his damp body and his hair was swaying with the wind. As she approached the oblivious Saiya-jin she realized with some concern that he was shivering.

 

He's never done that before.

 

She also noticed that instead of an aura glowing around him, a bluish energy danced across his skin like flowing water. His body appeared to be the source of the strange illumination. The palms of his hands were resting on his knees facing up and flowing in each was a small aqua marine ball of ki that resembled a sphere of water. The ki balls were even more brilliant than the aura.

 

As she got closer, she was taken aback by his voice. Vegeta was speaking in his native tongue. The language of the Saiya-jins. The same words were flowing over and over past his lips, disappearing into the night air.

 

"Rash'kin a sonat su ma. Skar shinta mun a kin'moshan… Rash'kin a sonat su ma. Skar shinta mun a kin'moshan…"

 

The words were guttural and vibrated deeply in his throat. Bulma could now understand where he got his strange accent from. The air was thick with the raw electricity of Vegeta's aura and the smell of his sweat permeated the air. The chanting just supplemented the mood. It was magnetic.

 

Standing there, Bulma couldn't help but notice some new things about Vegeta. There was something different about him, something much more masculine. Since the time he'd begun staying in her home, Bulma had tried her best not to notice anything physical about him. After some reflection, she'd eventually realized that she was afraid of what getting to know the Saiya-jin no Ouji might do to her or make her want to do. She had known men like that before. Yamcha was one of them, but it was never anything like this. It was as if looking this closely at Vegeta made every other male she had ever known unappealing.

 

She walked around to the front of his body, absently wondering why it was that he hadn't sensed her ki yet. That was incredibly unlike Vegeta. One of the things he prided himself on was being completely aware of his surroundings.

 

She stared at the spheres of energy levitating slightly above Vegeta's hands. The ki energy in them was constantly moving and flowing almost as if it were alive. She wondered what wielding that kind of power would feel like. How did it feel to hold the power to wipe out an entire planet, literally, in the palm of your hands?

 

Finally, after about 15 minutes of resisting, Bulma reached out and touched the orb of ki energy resting in Vegeta's left hand. Immediately, Vegeta snapped to attention. His eyes opened. They too were faintly glowing, but instead of a bluish color, they were a dusky gold.

 

"Onna…?"