Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ The Price You Pay ❯ Chapter Ten ( Chapter 10 )

Insert standard disclaimer here.

 

The Price You Pay: Chapter Ten

 

Neither of them slept well that night.

 

Bulma stared at the white ceiling in her room. They were bonded, permanently. She blinked. It wasn't just a nightmare. She turned over and looked at the Hello Kitty clock that hung on her wall.

 

7:03am.

 

And she still hadn't gotten any sleep. She rolled back over, her head bouncing on the spongy material of her pillow.

 

What would her friends say? What would Goku think?

 

Not that anyone's opinion has ever mattered to Vegeta, thought Bulma as she continued staring at the ceiling. The thing was, Goku's opinion did matter to her. He was her best friend. It was no small thing that he was her—she choked on the word—mate's arch enemy.

 

Would she ever get used to the idea? Of course she would. There was no other choice. She could choose to ignore the situation, or deal with it in a rational way.

 

And I'm always rational.

 

She stopped herself, took a deep breath, and started her analysis.

 

One, Vegeta was the Saiya-jin no Ouji. He was charismatic. Never rude, but very blunt, even brutally so. Typical royal behavior. Maybe he wasn't the kindest person she knew, but there was something about him. He was a pain in the ass, but he was also more honorable than he let on.

 

Two, he was stunningly attractive. Exactly what one would imagine the prince of a warrior race to look like. Granted, the Saiya-jins were a naturally good-looking species, in a rugged sort of way. So she couldn't give him that much credit, right?

 

Rational, rational, Bulma reminded herself. She was allowing her distaste for him to cloud her judgment. She digressed so easily.

 

Okay, so maybe he was a wonderful catch. When Vegeta-sei still existed he was probably considered one of the more charming bachelors of the galaxy. He just wasn't the one she was looking for. She nodded her head, that sounded true enough.

 

Three, she, Bulma Briefs, heiress to the largest international corporation on the planet and renowned cover girl, was permanently bonded to said Saiya-jin Prince. She let the air out of her lungs through her teeth. What had her counselor told her? Right, she was the only one in control of her emotions. She could handle this. She was only trapped with him forever. Bulma sighed and pulled to pillow over her face.

 

Four, okay, so they were 'bonded'/married in a weird Saiya-jin way. She could choose to be tortured physically if she resisted or she could just suck it up and finalize the whole thing. Thoughts of marriage had crossed Bulma's mind many times in the past several years. After all, she was nearly 30. Maybe this would be a good thing.

 

Yamcha...

 

She hugged the pillow tighter to her face. All thoughts about commitment and family, until about eight hours earlier, had been centered around Yamcha, not the Saiya-jin no Ouji who was living with her family. Yeah, Yamcha was a cheater and liar, but Vegeta was the last person anyone would expect her to be involved with. She may have had some lustful inclinations, but nothing that ever merited longterm commitment.

 

Without thinking, her mental catalog flipped open to a scene she'd rather have forgotten. It was a normal afternoon, and Vegeta had just come out of the GR, drenched in sweat. He reached into the refrigerator, and Bulma watched from the couch as the salty solution accentuated the bunching of his muscles in a curious way. He almost looked... sexy. She'd been dumbstruck. It was the first time she ever realized how attractive he was. Vegeta, noticing the attention, grinned at her as he lifted a carton of milk to his lips. She turned away, her face burning. What did Vegeta expect? He pranced around the house everyday in those little spandex shorts. They certainly left nothing to the imagination, and Bulma could imagine quite a bit.

 

So much for my rational analysis.

 

Bulma sighed and turned over. There just had to be something on which to build their relationship other than lust. In certain situations lust would have been fine, but this was Vegeta. And this bond business seemed like it was a big deal. Saiya-jins, from what she'd gathered, rarely emoted. The way he spat the word 'bond' made it seem like it was more than mental or physical. It was an emotional attachment. Was she shortchanging him for thinking him incapable of something like that?

 

Goku had told her, with some reluctance, what happened to Vegeta right before Freeza was defeated. About the Saiya-jin no Ouji begging him not to let Freeza get away with what he had done to him—not to let Freeza do to Goku what he had done to Vegeta. He was broken; tattered and broken in a way that no man ever should be.

 

Remembering this, Bulma thought that maybe she'd been more than a little critical in her evaluation of the Saiya-jin no Ouji. He was a steel rod of resolve and strength, but surely if he was capable of grieving his lost morality, he was not emotionless.

 

She thought back to the previous night, particularly right before she left his room. He'd lost control with her. It was so rare to see something like that happen to him, regardless of the fact that he was suffering from the Khon'daia na. The bond did it. It was the one thing that could set him off balance and make him feel things out instead of think. And the thing was, this thrilled Bulma and scared her out of her wits all at the same time.

 

She could still hear the words he had spoken in his native tongue.

 

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

 

Bulma could feel her body temperature start to rise again as she the energy within her awoke and snaked its way through her veins. Her heart pounded. Something was making her feel uneasy. There was a gentle tug at the back of her mind, something completely foreign to her.

 

It has to be the link.

 

Suddenly, she felt nauseated.

 

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

 

The sky outside Vegeta's window had just begun to turn a dusky rose color. The onna had only left about an hour prior to the sun rising, and he still hadn't been able to get any sleep.

 

The smell of Bulma's hair was permanently imprinted on Vegeta's mind. It didn't help much that the pillow he used was the one her head had been resting on while she was unconscious. She had a very distinct scent. It had been torture to lie there with her for the hour she was unconscious, feeling their bodies tugging at each other. He was not used to taxing his self-control.

 

Vegeta flipped over onto his back and groaned. Things were going to be much more challenging than he wanted them to be. Everything had changed. His whole life was now altered because of a woman who was barely five feet tall. She was tiny, but her powers over him were already starting to show. It was amazing how much a bond could change a person's convictions.

 

It was time to train. Maybe if he did that, he could take his mind off the events of the night before. Maybe. Assuming he didn't start thinking about that pornographer the woman used to call her mate.

 

Used to call.

 

Jesus, he was thinking about it already. Why did he even care? Everything was unexpected and unwanted. He was mated to the Earth woman, they were linked, but he didn't have to think about it all the bloody time.

 

Together forever. Until death. Shit. This wasn't working.

 

Vegeta grunted, sat up from his position on the bed, and walked to the bathroom.

 

A cold shower sounds really good right now.

 

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

 

Bulma hoped that her headache would be gone by the time the sun was fully risen. But after cursing the blinding light creeping between her blackout curtains for an hour, she decided it wasn't going to get any better. She got up in search of Ibuprofen and an icepack. This day was going to be awesome, she could already tell.

 

Fighting back an unexpected bout of dizziness, Bulma headed to the bathroom. Her face was flushed, and after letting her curiosity get the better of her, she retrieved a thermometer and took her temperature. It was a stifling 102 F. Much higher than it ought to be.

 

That's odd.

 

She pondered the idea of being sick or catching a bug for a few moments. It couldn't help that she'd experienced such a physically, mentally, and emotionally draining situation the night before. Her immune system was probably overwhelmed. She might hate having Vegeta's energy pulsing through her veins, but right now she certainly wouldn't have minded having his white blood cells. The man could survive anything. She'd never once seen him ill.

 

She looked at her face in the mirror as the fog from the shower slowly obstructed her view. She hated being weak. But what she hated even more was that her soon-to-be 'mate' disliked the idea of her being weak as well. And now she was sick.

 

Like I need another problem to deal with.

 

The sound of the water running through the pipes in the room next to her let Bulma know she wasn't the only one awake. The walls between their two bathrooms were thin, and she could hear the shower in Vegeta's bathroom as it pelted droplets against the ceramic of the tub.

 

Bulma stepped into her own shower and stood under the hot water for about two seconds before realizing it had to go. She turned the knob all the way to the right, sighing as the freezing water soothed her aching muscles. When was the last time she'd enjoyed a cold shower? Not since the eight grade, she thought, when she'd burned herself to a crispy lobster red multiple times in pursuit of 'the perfect tan'. She examined a brown freckle on her arm suspiciously. She was so going to get skin cancer.

 

Bulma turned off the shower and tossed a robe around her bare shoulders. Her increased body temperature and the inferno that seemed to be consuming her stomach were subdued after the frigid shower, but still present.

 

Damn stomach bug.

 

This couldn't be a good thing. What was going to happen between her and Vegeta, if she was too sick to even look at him? She smirked. She highly doubted she could ever be that sick. Anyway, whatever it was, it hadn't started to bring her down yet, and if she could help it, it wasn't going to either.

 

After eating a nutritious breakfast and turning on the TV, Bulma plopped down on the sofa. It was her day off dammit, and she was going to relax.

 

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

 

Once dressed, Vegeta made his way down the stairs to the kitchen. The onna was downstairs as well, he noticed before touching his foot to the floor. His mind was blaring, rather painfully, that she was near. He twitched. Onna radar. Excellent.

 

Her temperature was still elevated. That was strange. He was almost certain that it should have returned to normal after her body became adjusted to the new power within it. Maybe he was wrong.

 

The lights in the kitchen were off and the onna was sitting, actually, more like lying, on the couch. There was an icepack on her forehead and her arm was over her face. Apparently she was trying to shade her eyes from the nonexistent light. Vegeta flipped the switch to the lights and Bulma groaned.

 

"Vegeta, would you mind terribly if I asked you to keep the lights off?" she asked from under her arm. Her eyes were still closed. "I have a wicked headache and I know you can see fine in the dark."

 

Vegeta grunted, but complied. Something was amiss.

 

After raiding the refrigerator of all the edible contents, and some of the inedible, Vegeta approached the spot where Bulma lay, in her misery, on the sofa. It seemed she had actually fallen asleep.

 

She must have gotten about as much sleep as I did.

 

So the effects of their bond were equally strong in both of them; the physiology didn't seem to matter. That was intriguing.

 

Maybe things will work out better than she thought—better than I thought.

 

Another one of the defiant locks of hair had made its way into Bulma's closed eyes. Vegeta moved his hand under Bulma's arm, and brushed the lock out of the way. Bulma sighed in content and lowered her arms. She actually looked peaceful when she slept.

It was strange, thinking back on their non-existent relationship. Vegeta had hated the onna when he first met her and learned to loath her even more as he stayed with her infuriating family. She had a short temper, arguably just as short as his. And she was one of the most stubborn creatures he'd ever met.

 

She's practically a Saiya-jin.

 

But there was a huge disparity between her personality and her ki level. Still, depressingly low ki or not, she had every warrior on this planet wrapped around her finger. What she didn't have in ki, she made up in wits.

 

And she was quite beautiful. Exquisite even. Her exotic coloring was magnificent. He'd noticed it the second he laid eyes on her, but it had always been from an aesthetic point of view. This was different. He supposed in many ways they were the perfect match. Assuming that he was even looking for a match, which, he reminded himself, he wasn't.

 

If the onna had known what would happen, she never would have entered his room, never would have walked out onto the balcony, and certainly never would have touched the ki sphere. He knew enough about her to understand that this wasn't what she needed, and certainly not what she wanted. Even if she had an underlying attraction to him, this wouldn't have been her wish. He was too jaded, too cold to deserve or desire the affections of another.

 

It was becoming difficult to remember what it was like to be sought after. Before it all, before Freeza, he had been someone. He had been important. The one destined to be the Legendary. What more could any female want? He smirked. Then again, Chikyuu-jin did pick strange mates. They were usually completely unsuited for each other. Case in point, Bulma and Yamcha.

 

He turned yet again and gazed down at her form. The bond was tugging away, even as she slept. His eyebrows furrowed. It wasn't something that could be ignored for long.

 

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

 

Bulma found it disturbing that she could only fall asleep while Vegeta was in the room. It was as if her body finally told her it was safe to shut down. She wasn't going to argue. Sleep was a precious commodity. After watching TV for about five minutes, and eating breakfast, she'd actually started feeling worse. Whatever. Vegeta was just going to have to deal with it.

 

She was having the strangest dream. Vegeta was standing over her, dressed in his royal armor, as if about to leave for battle. Her mind told her to let him go, but her heart would just not allow it.

 

Vegeta reached his hand out to her and brushed a stray lock of hair out of her eyes. She sighed blissfully. Her eyes searched his, begging him not to leave. Vegeta looked at her sternly, then turned his back and left.

 

"Vegeta..." It was the last thing she whispered before he was out of sight.

 

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

 

The Saiya-jin no Ouji had nearly left the room when he realized Bulma was dreaming.

 

"Vegeta..." She was reaching out to him telepathically.

 

It was the last thing she muttered before turning over and burying her face in the sofa cushions. A few moments later she turned back over, and Vegeta noticed, with some dismay, that her cheeks were covered with a thin sheen of tears.

 

Things were becoming more confusing by the moment. He re-approached her sleeping body.

 

Vegeta sat down on the sofa next to her and slowly wiped away the tears with his thumb, examining their silver hue. Bulma seemed to relaxs. The tear fizzled and disappeared on his finger.

 

"Onna, what have you done to me?" whispered the Saiya-jin no Ouji before lightly brushing his lips over hers.