Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ The Price You Pay ❯ Chapter Nine ( Chapter 9 )

Insert standard disclaimer here.

 

The Price You Pay: Chapter Nine

 

Vegeta decided about three seconds into his description of the Khon'daia na that no matter what he did, things were bound to get worse. Bulma had had plenty of interest in the subject, but the second he had tied her into the whole thing, it had completely gone down the drain.

 

The frightened, self-righteous onna sat about two feet away from him on his bed. That was the farthest away she could get. Their conversation was going nowhere, fast. Every time Vegeta, of all people, tried to say something encouraging, Bulma would throw back a stinging comment concerning the structure of their `relationship'.

 

Vegeta raised his hand to silence her.

 

"Onna, this isn't easy for either of us," said Vegeta in an irritated voice. "But you you touched my energy and now we are linked. This is not something you can undo.” Bulma gave Vegeta one of her infamous `oh, yes I can' looks and Vegeta scowled. He was equally disgusted by the situation. Arguing was, therefore, difficult.

 

Bulma stared at Vegeta. There was really nothing she could do—absolutely nothing? She hated the idea of being powerless. She was the most powerful woman on the planet. How the hell was she supposed to deal with this? It didn't become her.

 

"Ok, Vegeta, since you seem to be the only one of us who understands the mess 'I' put us in. How does this work?" she asked timidly, if not begrudgingly. It wasn't like her to forfeit to Vegeta. She'd be damned if she ever admitted to it, but she just wasn't in the mood to argue with him.

 

Finally, she's come to her senses.

 

"Bonding is highly ritualized,” he began. Probably to prevent accidents like this from happening. “Anyway,” he continued, “this whole mess has to be finalized by the end of the Khon'daia na. If we wait too long there can be some unfortunate side effects like paranoia, rage, or aggression. It can go the other way too. Some people feel ill and have even died. These symptoms are more likely to be elevated in your body considering how fragile Chikyuu-jin physiology is." There was no sarcasm in his voice or on his face as he mentioned her weakness.

 

"So then there's nothing we can do?” she asked until Vegeta shook his head `no'.

 

“How much time do we have left?" At least the onna was accepting the idea that they were going to be a part of each others' lives for longer than either of them could stand.

 

"Three weeks, four days."

 

"Well, I don't know about you, but if we have that long, I'd much rather go to bed right now than worry about Saiya-jin `mating' rituals or what not.” She yawned. Maybe it would all be a sick dream when she woke up the next day.

 

It shouldn't have bothered him so much to hear her say the word `mating,' but for some perverse reason, it did. Vegeta's tail began to twitch and frizzle as he dwelt on the thought.

 

Bulma noticed the look on the Saiya-jin no Ouji's face and wondered aloud, "They are `mating' rituals, are they not?" She furrowed her eyebrows. "Lord knows, I don't want to get another part of Saiya-jin culture wrong."

 

She was serious. Vegeta smirked. It was as if she didn't know what the words `mating ritual' meant. But she had a point. There wasn't much time left until the sun would rise and, much as it pained him, he needed rest. He did have training to do.

 

"You were correct in your assumption, onna." Vegeta loved seeing the frail creature distressed and confused, but this particular subject did not lend itself to the type of torture he preferred. Not when they were both screwed.

 

Bulma smiled. Maybe things wouldn't be as bad as she thought they would.

 

Not that I have any choice in the matter anyway.

 

Bulma knew she had to leave before she fell asleep in front of Vegeta but she didn't know what the proper etiquette was. So they were bonded. What was she supposed to do? Simply leave? Give him a hug? No, that didn't seem like anything Vegeta would go for.

 

"Well, sleep calls," said Bulma, rising from her position on Vegeta's bed and starting toward the door. Escape sounded great.

 

Don't look back. Maybe he'll just let you leave peacefully if you don't—

 

But her thoughts were cut short as she felt a warm hand grab hold of her upper arm. They were both jolted by each others' energy at this slight contact.

 

Just don't look.

 

Bulma squeezed her eyes shut, still facing away from the Saiya-jin no Ouji who was, apparently, holding her captive.

 

"Onna..." Vegeta's mouth must have been right beside her ear. "Aren't you going to say good night?" He was doing that purring thing again, he'd only done it a few times and she already hated it. Vegeta let that strange accent of his lace the loaded words as well.

 

"Good night, Vegeta," said Bulma, with a very obvious flinch as Vegeta placed his lips on the sensitive hollow between her shoulder and neck, gently nipping at the flesh there. What had gotten into him? Hostility and now seduction? She pictured all the five-year-old boys who used to throw sand at her during recess when she was a little girl. “It means they like you, dear,” her mother had said. Yeah, right. Vegeta was no child.

 

Bulma could feel chills run down her spine and sensed the electricity building between them. Vegeta's free hand was now wrapped around her waist and pulling her back against his stomach. His tail slowly curled its way around her right thigh. It took all the willpower Bulma could muster not to moan.

 

"Is it really?" asked Vegeta while continuing his assault on Bulma's body. Bulma could still hear the purr in Vegeta's throat, it was a low vibration in his chest. Everything was going way too fast. The energy was creating a haze in the back of her eyes again and she could feel herself start to lose control. Like before, their bodies had started doing things without their conscious approval.

 

This was Vegeta, she reminded herself, the monkey prince who delighted in tormenting her.

 

"Yes."

 

Dammit, make him stop, you fool!

 

"Vegeta..." Bulma started to tell him to stop, but instead let out a sigh of pleasure. Before Bulma knew what was going on, Vegeta left one last tantalizing kiss on the back of her neck and stepped away from her.

 

"We don't want things to get carried away." Vegeta looked at her. The way he said the last two words left much to the imagination. His eyes were glowing again, and the haunted, hungry presence prowling in the background was also there.

 

Where was my self control that time?

 

Bulma turned and looked at him, letting out the breath she had unknowingly been holding. Her cheeks were a delicate shade of pink, her hair disheveled, and her eyes were glowing. Their twin electric currents created a magnetic pulse just strong enough to spill out through their eyes as light energy. Bulma and the Saiya-jin no Ouji's eyes, they would soon realize, would always glow when in close contact with the other.

 

For a few moments there, Bulma had actually decided that fate was against her, and then he was the one to stop.

 

She sighed.

 

Figures.

 

"Vegeta, what's going to happen to me?" asked Bulma, breaking the mood. She had been on one too many emotional rollercoaster rides in her life, she didn't need an experience like this putting her into more therapy.

 

"Nothing's going to happen to you, onna."

 

Bulma looked at him, pleading, begging, for what he just said to always hold true. Vegeta would never break an oath, she knew this. As long as he was there, no one would ever dare to lay a finger on her. Even before the whole bonding mess.

 

She nodded.

 

"Vegeta, I don't want you to feel you have to hold back with me anymore," said Bulma, a bit hesitantly. "No matter what happens, I do trust you." She then turned, and thankfully, walked out the door and into the dimly lit hallway.

 

Vegeta returned to the bed and looked down at the wet facecloth lying on the floor. What was he doing? This was not his first moon.

 

The cloth was still damp, he noticed absently, before making his way to the bathroom to re-wet the material.

 

The Saiya-jin no Ouji walked out to his balcony and placed the cool cloth against his own forehead, staring at the stars. If only she'd known how easy it would have been for him to...

 

She was so delicate and even more defenseless while she slept. He could vividly remember the feel of her pale neck in his hand—the thoughts racing through his mind as she lay there unconscious hours earlier. One brief twist of his hand and it would have ended right there. The rituals weren't complete. He might have even survived the ordeal. He had no real attachment to her; never wanted one. But as he held her fragile form to his body and contemplated the situation, he realized he only had one choice. The self-control she saw during their discussion had only come after hours of contemplating her murder. Oh, he was angry, but only because he'd decided to accept it. And that was something she would never know.

 

Vegeta turned and walked back inside. The onna's room was right next door to his, maybe 30 feet down the hall due to the rather enormous size of their rooms. He could already feel the slight tug of the bond. If it was this strong with short distances, he didn't even want to know how painful it could become with greater separation. The pain would subside a bit after all the rituals were completed, but as of now, it was really just a big pain in the ass.

 

What was even more worrisome was that the link would strengthen as the end of the Khon'daia na approached. He would be highly surprised if they were able to stay three feet apart without rolling over in intense pain as the end came near. He threw the cloth onto the floor.

 

The onna better enjoy her privacy now, because it's not going to last very long.