Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ The Price You Pay ❯ Chapter Seventeen ( Chapter 17 )

Insert standard disclaimer here.

The Price You Pay: Chapter Seventeen

The poor onna was exhausted. If Vegeta had even had the slightest idea what was bothering her, he would have done something, anything. He couldn't tolerate her when she was like this.

Could her dreams just be a result of the Khon'daia na? Subconsciously, he was pushing her away. It was his natural reaction. It was the only thing he had left with which to protect himself. Separation. It was inevitable that both of them become attached, but Vegeta had always been one to challenge destiny.

He couldn't make her dreams stop because he couldn't make himself stop. That was the most likely solution, right? He couldn't get himself out of his head. The bond wasn't something he'd accepted willingly.

She was still lying on his stomach. It wasn't like Bulma to rest in place of work. She was a workaholic. She'd live in her lab if it were possible. Really, it was a wonder she had ever maintained a relationship with that womanizing ex-mate of hers.

He should have killed that incompetent moron while he had the chance. Oh, the things he would do to Yamcha if he had the chance. No one, no one dishonored the Saiya-jin no Ouji's mate. Even if everything had happened before they were mates.

It was getting late out. The clock that once read ten now read five. While Bulma had collapsed into a peaceful, dreamless sleep, Vegeta had been brooding about how to tell her about the Khon'daia na, and that the rituals were going to be performed much earlier than she expected.

He needed to wake her before dusk. If he didn't, then they'd have to wait until the next day, and he didn't think they would be able to make it that long. He didn't think he'd be able to make it that long.

Vegeta inhaled deeply, taking in the fresh coconut fragrance of Bulma's hair, and then moved to wake her.

She awoke with a sigh.

"Vegeta, what time is it?" asked Bulma from her perch on his upper body. Her eyes were still closed. .

"It's after five."

"After five?" She yawned. "In the morning?"

Didn't she remember that the last time she checked the clock it was ten?

"Five in the evening," he said flatly. "Now, you really must get up. There are issues we need to discuss."

When Bulma didn't move Vegeta made a motion as if he were threatening to get up.

"Okay, okay, I'm up," said Bulma in a defeated tone of voice. "You know Vegeta, you make a really good pillow." Vegeta didn't know whether to be flattered or insulted, so he remained silent. There was no need for him to get into an argument with her.

Bulma unceremoniously rolled off Vegeta and onto the other side of the bed.

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

He hadn't slept at all, not in all the seven hours that she had been lying there. Something was definitely up.

Bulma yawned and stretched her hands out over her head and arched her back. She felt rested yet tired at the same time. It was the strangest feeling.

Vegeta was the first one to get up off the bed and walk to the bathroom.

"I'm going to take a shower, onna," said Vegeta as he reached into the linen closet and retrieved two towels. He turned to directly address her. "You need to take one as well."

Bulma immediately blushed a deep shade of red. Why was he so good at implying these things?

Bulma, girl. Get your mind out of the gutter!

But who wouldn't have their mind in the gutter? There was the Saiya-jin no Ouji, standing before her in a pair of black cotton boxers, shirtless, and holding out a towel to her. His facial expression was blank. He looked at her questioningly. It appeared that this time he actually didn't know what he said to get such a reaction out of her.

"Onna, time is limited," said Vegeta as he handed the towel out to her again. Their hands brushed briefly and jolts of electricity were sent through both of their bodies. Vegeta was the first one to pull his hand back.

Vegeta stepped back into the bathroom.

"Oh, and, onna..." Bulma looked up at him. "I did mean separate showers." Vegeta smirked and then closed the door to the bathroom.

Bulma blushed an even deeper red before exiting Vegeta's quarters to go to her own room and take a shower. Alone.

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

His shower was cold, as cold as the knob controlling the water temperature would allow. After his last physical contact with Bulma, he was left more than a little excited. He'd needed to get out of there before Bulma ended up in the shower with him. The temptation was too great.

Bulma left to take a shower in her own quarters not long after Vegeta had gotten in the shower himself. It was a shame really. They were both showering at the same time, but not together. Vegeta chuckled to himself. There would be a time for that. Later.

He turned off the water and searched for his black body suit. Such rituals required a bit more formal attire.

The water shut off in the room next to his. The onna was out of the shower and would be coming back shortly. Then he was going to have to tell her everything. It was going to be a very long evening.

The Saiya-jin no Ouji pulled his breast plate over his head and secured it in place. It was his most decorative one. The crest of Vegeta-sei was embroidered into the fabric in a deep red color and outlined in gold. The material this particular breast plate was made of was the most durable and strong. At least ten times stronger than the standard material the breast plates for lower-ranking Saiya-jin were made of.

If the onna really wanted to make herself useful, she'd make me a replica of one of these, thought Vegeta absently. No, he was letting his mind wander again. He needed to keep his attention on the situation at hand.

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

Bulma had no idea what to wear. She knew that it was just Vegeta and whatever she was wearing, or not wearing, would be just fine, but something seemed different. Special.

Her hot shower had relieved most of her stress, but she could still feel that prick on the back of her neck. Vegeta was worried about something.

Bulma grabbed her chapstick and lightly applied some to her lips. Kami only knew what all the cold air she'd been exposed to was doing to her skin.

After applying a suitable coat of gloss, Bulma knelt and opened the bottom left-hand drawer in her dresser. There were only a select few things in this drawer—things that were important to her. She reached for a lump of black clothing all the way on the bottom and removed it.

Years ago, when Bulma had first started working on making a replica of Vegeta's battle armor, she made a replica body suit. It was plain and black, but very important to her. It had taken her months to figure out a proper chemical equation to substitute for many of the materials. It wasn't perfect, not even close, and it didn't have nearly as much elasticity as Vegeta's original body suit, but she was pleased that she had once again completed something so difficult.

Bulma slipped into the body suit and threw her robe and a pair of slippers on over it.

Why not.

The air in the hallway was cold against her skin, Bulma noticed as she made her way down to Vegeta's room. She knocked and then realized she was being silly. She had slept there the night before.

Bulma entered the room and looked around for Vegeta, but the Saiya-jin no Ouji was nowhere to be found.

Where is he?

She glanced at the open door to the balcony as the curtains danced lazily in the breeze from the wind.

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

Vegeta sat on the railing to the balcony and leaned against the wall of the house. It was cool outside, but the change was more than welcome.

What in the world could she be doing?

The onna had stopped after just entering his quarters. No matter, he wasn't in a rush. It wasn't quite dusk yet.

"Vegeta?" These bouts of temerity didn't become her. The worst had already happened, what did she have to be so cautious about?

"There you are," she said as she approached the Saiya-jin no Ouji. She was wearing a flannel robe with vertical blue stripes and pink bunny slippers. At least she wasn't trying to impress him.

"You were expecting someone else?" Vegeta questioned and then turned back to watch the sun start its steady fall toward the horizon.

"Vegeta, is there something you need to tell me? You seem a little tense,” asked Bulma as she got even closer to where he was perched.

Well, at least I didn't have to bring it up.

Vegeta still faced the sun as he began to speak. "There are many things to tell you, and I fear I won't have enough time to communicate all of them to you right now." He turned to her, his eyes aglow. "But a cursory explanation will have to be sufficient." He bared his teeth. Whatever he had to say, he didn't like it.

"Alright, shoot."