Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Their Assignment ❯ Chapter 11

I would like to say that I don't own or claim any rights to the books I mentioned and all credit is given to the respective owners. I just think they're really good books and wanted to slip some good reading suggestions in under the guise of story filler. ^.~

"Good," he purred and released her for a second to shove all of the trash from their lunch to the side. Chichi swayed and realized that she didn't have a clue what she had just agreed to.

"What are you doing?" Chichi asked, watching him nervously as he stretched out in the grass, holding his hand out toward her.

"Chichi, come here."

"Un uh."

"Chi, we agreed. I have the rest of the afternoon to convince you."

"Yeah, but I never agreed to be agreeable about it!" she pointed out triumphantly. He cocked his head to the side consideringly before flashing her another grin.

"Fair enough." With that announcement he suddenly lunged forward and pulled her down on top of him, causing her to squeal at the movement that she didn't even see. Then he shifted and tucked her against his side so that her head was resting against his chest as he stared up at the clouds. When he didn't do or say anything else she started to relax, relishing the feel of his body stretched out beside her.

She was surprised when she found her lips being claimed in a kiss and she melted against him as his mouth slanted over hers, tangling his tongue with hers. She moaned in protest as he pulled back to say, "First of all there's the fact that we've been together for so long." It took a moment for his words to register, but before she could figure out if he was expecting a response he was trailing tiny kisses along her jaw up to her ear where he nibbled on her lobe causing her to shiver. But then he stopped to speak softly into her ear.

"Second there's the way we match so perfectly in everything, whether we share the same tastes or disagree completely we always balance out." He shifted again, this time so that he was straddling her hips. His hands slid beneath the hem of the turtleneck, sliding upward until he transferred one of his hands behind her to lift her up and finish peeling off the irritating article of clothing. He gently deposited her back on the ground.

"Third of all," he drew her hand up and pressed his lips to each sensitive fingertip. "There's the way you feel against me, as if you were made just for my arms."

Chichi felt each caress, each kiss shiver along her arm and through her entire body. She was trying to keep her eyes open but they felt so heavy. The grass prickled pleasantly against the skin of her back. Her mind was so busy registering the heat jolting through her system that it completely missed the significance of the fact that she was no longer wearing a shirt.

"Are you convinced yet sweetheart?" Goku asked her softly.

Her eyes snapped open and she glared up at him, opening her mouth to hurl an insult at him, although her mind still wasn't functioning quite right so she wasn't sure if she were angry at him for seducing her to get his way or angry with him for daring to stop. The result of this confusion being the conflicting verbal abuse getting tangled together in the back of her throat, coming out in a strangled snarl. Goku just gave a chuckle and whispered huskily, "I'll take that as a no." He didn't wait for a response.

"Then there's the way you make food. Did I ever tell you what a wonderful chef you'll be?" he asked idly, trailing a finger over the exposed curve of her right breast from the outside to the center of her chest. Chichi slightly arched to meet his exploring fingertip, silently asking for more.

"There's the way you're willing to get along with my cousin for me even though you guys are too much alike in personality to really get along." His other finger followed the same path over her left breast as his right finger had and any complaints she thought of making about his statement were lost somewhere in the pulsing heat that built between her legs. But the look she gave him promised that she'd get him back for that when she was thinking clearly. He smirked in response. Smirked! Oh I am going to get him for this! I'm going to- ooh later though…

His tongue lightly touched the hollow between her breasts in the exact same spot that his fingers had met. Chichi's hands clamped on his shoulders and he allowed her keep him in place but he didn't repeat the action. Instead he stared into her face. "Of course there's always your eyes. Rich dark chocolate that warms and softens into smooth milk chocolate when you smile. Give me a smile Chichi." He gave her a bone-dissolving smile and she couldn't resist doing as he commanded.

"And I admire your strength. I know any children we have would be well provided for no matter what happens to me. You'd fight for them, like a lioness defending her cubs. If the children we're going to have inherit even a third of your strength of will I know that they will be more than capable of holding their own in the world." His tongue continued its explorations, following the line of her collarbone. A small gasp escaped her lips as cool air replaced the warmth of his wet tongue. With him no longer touching her she was able to think more clearly. "What do you mean children? You haven't won!"

"Haven't been sufficiently convinced yet?" She silently shook her head. "Stubborn aren't you? Guess I'll just have to be more persuasive."

"I guess so," she agreed impishly.

"I'm more than sufficiently up to the challenge," he informed her imperiously.

"Goku."

"Yes?"

"Shut up." With that announcement she pulled his mouth down to hers.

"I win?" he demanded softly.

"You win," she conceded.

"Come on then," he got up and helped her to her feet. She blushed as she realized she was only wearing her underwear. She didn't even remember him taking her clothes off. She realized the only thing he had taken off was his shirt.

"Hey! It's not fair that I'm wearing practically nothing and you're wearing practically everything," she protested, blushing even more as she recognized how that sounded. He gave her a wicked smile.

"Well what if I think it isn't fair that I didn't get to convince you completely out of your clothes?" he teased her. "Come here. We're going to take a quick trip," Goku wrapped an arm around her waist and placed two fingers against his forehead, and Chichi found herself in a nice, but obviously masculine bedroom.

"How-?!"

"A trick I learned from a guy I beat in a match a few years back," Goku answered absently, nudging her onto the bed. "Stay here, I'll be right back ok?" he stared at her as if her were afraid she was going to disappear. He relaxed a little when she nodded her agreement, but he still looked disappointed about having to separate from her, even only as long as it would take to do what he needed to do. Only a couple of minutes later he was back and he tossed their clothes on a chair before joining her in the bed.

"Where'd you go?" she asked curiously.

"Huh? Oh I just went to go get the car and get our clothes back. Now to get back to where we were," he pulled her close inhaling her scent as he did so and she giggled when his breath tickled her neck.

They heard the sound of the door closing behind Goku and Chichi and silence descended. Bulma stared into her teacup, trying desperately to think of a way to get out of this. She raised her eyes to look at the other inhabitant of the room, feeling a growing suspicion in her stomach that he knew, in spite of the turtleneck ploy, or at least was suspicious. A feeling that increased when he smirked evilly at her guarded expression.

Why is this happening to me?! I must have been an incredibly bad or stupid person in a past life or something. Someone is purposely punishing me. "What are you doing here?!" she demanded through clenched teeth.

"Now, now dear. This young gentleman says that he's Sunday's not a good day for him to work on your assignment. He came by today instead though so you could both work on it since its due Monday. Wasn't that thoughtful?" her mother beamed at her as she traipsed into the room with a tray full of snacks, adding, "Now you two have fun. Oh you should stay for supper deary, why don't you call your house and let them know where you'll be," she added pinching Vegeta's cheek affectionately, wandering into the kitchen before he could form a reply.

He stared after the blonde woman with a disturbed expression before turning to look expectantly at the blue haired girl who sat as if frozen to her chair, staring at him. Finally she stood up and grudgingly said, "Well come on then, I guess we can work in my study since there's no chance of anyone interrupting our work there."

"Your study?" Vegeta asked her with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes my study. I had home schooling so I had a room where I kept all my books and my desk. Then when I got older I started adding in my own books to the pile, not just the school ones you know? Of course by now it's more of a library but I always called it my study when I was little so it stuck."

"Tell me something woman, why are you so adamant against having me as your partner?" he asked curiously as he followed her up the stairs, and down the hall.

"First off, my name is Bulma. We've been in school together for about 3 months and it's a relatively simple name, so use it. Second of all I don't want any partner because I've always worked alone and am therefore used to being in charge. Third of all, I don't want you to be my partner because… oh here we are. Come on." He followed her into the room and watched her settle into a comfortable looking chair.

"Our assignment is in my bag if you want to read the particular crap we have to for this one," he ignored her gesture to sit down in the matching one across the table and wandered around the room. He also ignored the daggers her eyes were hurling into his back as his fingers danced along the titles of the books in the eyes level shelf of the bookcase that stretched along the wall.

Interesting. I'm a rather eclectic reader. I'm not sure I know what the Hell to call her. On the shelf books such as Modern Inventions and other such technical pieces were jumbled onto the shelf next to Shakespearean works, romance that ranged from sappy to damn near porn, suspense and psychological thrillers such as The Dark Room and Perfect Blue. Tossed into with that were the Robotech series and political dissertations. Some Dr. Seuss books held a place of honor near a book of poems by Edgar Allen Poe. Next to that was The Princess Bride followed by The Dragon Lance series. There was absolutely no organization or order that he could make from the way she had them ranged on the shelf. In fact the only thing he could tell that they all had in common was the fact that they were all a bit dog eared and weren't there for show.

"Because why?" he asked casually returning to their earlier topic. He couldn't keep from smirking when he noticed her jerk nervously at the sudden question.

"Because why what?" she snapped, tossing him a glare before returning her attention to the paper she had snagged from his backpack.

"I believe the original question was why are you so against having me as a partner?" he reminded her.

"I already answered that. Symbolism, imagery, syntax, crap like that. Then we have to create a scenario that unites the two lovers Heathcliff and Cathy, blah, blah, blah, etc., etc., etc. Who comes up with this crap?"

"Don't worry about the analyzation part. I already finished that. I just figured you'd want a little input on the scenario writing part," Vegeta answered absently still studying the books.

"I see. So basically all we have to do is come up with a scenario we can both agree on, write it so that it sounds like Emily Bronte is writing an epilogue and then explain why we chose the imagery and elements we did, so that we can present it to the class on Monday?"

"Yes. And you didn't."

"Didn't what?" Bulma asked, trying to follow the flame haired male's stream of logic and coming up blank.

"You didn't answer my question, but we'll get back to that later woman."

"If you say so. Now let's toss around some ideas. First off we need a setting."

"They're dead. Wouldn't that leave only two maybe three possible settings? And considering the events of the book I'd say that bumps them down to one."

"Oh yeah? Where's that and why?" Bulma asked pulling out a pen and a piece of paper, knowing his answer already in the back of her mind.

"I'd have to say Hell. First of all, there is their basic nature. They weren't exactly nice upright people while they were alive. Two, the gothic romance theme can be carried out through Hell and is more believable than heaven would be. Beyond that can you honestly imagine Heathcliff wanting to live in Heaven? Or Catherine caring?"

"Why wouldn't they meet on the Moore?" she argued after listing his reasons. "Isn't that the area they were seen by the shepherd as ghosts? And if they couldn't get into Heaven wouldn't it make just as much sense that they would struggle to stay in the place that meant so much to them both? Also it's a setting already established by the book which would make it believable as an actual setting since I sincerely doubt that Emily Bronte would imagine Hell as being anywhere near suitable for a lover's tryst. After all people from that time frame tended to imagine flaming pits and agonized souls getting tossed into lakes of fire."

Ugh. What a horrible thought. Where did these humans come up with stuff like that? "Well that still leaves them in another place. I mean, even if they did meet on the Moore it wouldn't have really been the Moore," Vegeta pointed out reasonably.

"How do you figure that?" Bulma asked, distracted from writing down her own reasoning.

"Dead people don't even exist on the same plane as humans. There'd be no way for them to meet on the Moore. Of course wherever they are might look exactly like it but it wouldn't be. If they did meet on the Moore it would cause a temporal disturbance, offsetting the natural balance of the world and would more than likely result in the world's destruction. Kind of like the chaos theory, only on a massive scale."

"The Chaos Theory? Vegeta, I don't even want to know where you came up with that one," Bulma muttered going back to her paper.

"Let's just say I've made a study of the many dangers to this world. It's something of a hobby for me," he gave her a vicious smile that she chose to ignore.

"Alright, so we have Hell, or hypothetically speaking a place that looks just like the Moore to them since you refuse to even contemplate that they could be in Heaven."

"Why on Earth would they be?" he demanded, purposely goading her.

"I don't know! Maybe because they truly loved each other and because they suffered for their sins?"

"You're very idealistic aren't you woman? Let's get one thing straight; love doesn't cancel out the pain caused by thousands of careless or cruel actions. And the fact that you suffered for your actions doesn't mean you're a martyr, for which you are thereby guaranteed a place in Heaven. It means you're fucking suffering ok?"

"Oh," she breathed out on a hiss, "How does Mr. Chaisson expect me to work with you?! You're just horrible!" She glared at him when he had the nerve to chuckle at her outrage.

"Come woman, what's the next thing we have to figure out for our scenario? We can argue over the setting some more later when you've recovered from your annoyance."

Bulma gritted her teeth. "Alright next we have to figure out what they're going to say to each other, figure out what they would wear, that sort of thing, little details that add to the overall whole. Of course we also have to figure out what major symbols from the book that we're going to use and incorporate them into our epilogue."

"Alright, stand up."

"What? Why?" she asked him suspiciously.

"Because I'm not terribly imaginative and it helps me to visualize something if I have an actual object to build a mental image around. It'll probably help you as well." Besides, I need to be touching you to get this to work. "So we're going to do some role playing. Now stand up." When she didn't move he yanked her chair out from the table and tipped foreword so that she had an instant to make the choice between standing and sprawling on the floor. She stood. But she didn't have to like it.

"Alright, let's start out with the Hell scenario since that's the first one listed. Come here."

"Why should I?"

"Damn it woman! Do you have to question everything I say?" Vegeta snarled.

"Yes!" she informed him coolly.

"Just shut up and humor me." He frowned at her as if waiting for her protest, but she didn't say anything, curious as to what he was up to. In spite of the fact that whatever it was, she wasn't going to like it. "You're not in this library of yours."

"I'm not?" she raised a brow at him.

"No. You're in the middle of a ballroom, gleaming marble tiles of purest black veined with a white that looks like lightening in a storm swept sky. Rich tapestries cover the heavy stone walls, but you can barely see them beyond the dance floor where the only light in the room comes from. And you're dressed in a pale blue, almost white dress, the color slashing across the darkness and drawing all eyes to you. There are hundreds of men lined up to have the honor of your hand in a dance." Bulma looked around as if to see all of these suitors only to feel Vegeta's fingers turn her head back toward him.

"But you have eyes only for your current partner," he informed her smugly, grabbing her hand.

"Oh yeah, is he blond? I've always had a weakness for blonds!" she mocked him, feeling a flash of victory when he looked daggers at her.

"You are in a ballroom being asked to dance by your partner."

And suddenly she was.

She looked down at her ball gown, a pale shimmering blue, almost white in the soft luminance. The floor was black marble, just as he described. The room was dark, with the barely visible tapestries, but rather than being forbidding the enclosing shadows felt safe and cocooning. She looked up to see her companion dressed in a dark blue spandex suit. Over his hands were white gloves and his feet were encased in white boots with gold clasps. A dark red cape fluttered from his shoulders, attached beneath the gleaming gold breastplate of armor etched with an unfamiliar insignia. Her breath caught as she stared at his muscular form. He was a picture of masculine beauty, and she couldn't tear her eyes away from the play of muscles underneath the thin material.

"May I have this dance my lady?" Then the room flickered and his smug look was replaced by his grimace. She could see her library through the stone walls and the table beyond them. Beyond his armor she could make out his regular black t-shirt and jeans. Not that this was any easier to look away from but it was the principle that she could see the truth beyond the image he had somehow brought into existence.

"You're slipping if you can't hold an illusion that long," she taunted him, unable to stop herself. He growled at her but his anger was quickly replaced by a triumphant look.

"Maybe, but it was long enough to see my mark on your neck woman."

Heh, heh, heh. So whaddaya think? Am I evil or am I evil? Yes I do believe I am evil. Ah, well… Oh yeah, if any of you are wondering about the Chaos Theory the gist of it is every time a butterfly flaps its wings the effects are felt on the other side of the world.

::starts singing in a horrible falsetto:: Review! Review! Review! And I'll stop singing!