Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Timelines Collide ❯ Night at Capsule Corporation ( Chapter 4 )

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Ball. Dragon Ball, Dragon Ball Z, Dragon Ball GT and all of their characters belong to Akira Toriyama and Toei Animation.

 

A/N: I took my sweet time with this chapter, I apologize for that. There's a lime scene, be warned.

 

Chapter 4: Night at Capsule Corporation

 

Vegeta entered the room and closed the door behind him, releasing a long sigh. His training was really hard and exhausting, and he was finally done for the day. The lamp on her night stand was on, but Bulma didn't seem to be awake. She was lying on her back, her eyes closed, a little book on her stomach. He turned the light off, went closer and sank onto the bed, startling her.

 

“Hm?! Oh, Vegeta... you scared me,” she said quietly, removing the book from her belly and putting it on her bedside table. “What time is it?” she asked, not bothering to look at the alarm clock next to her.

He shrugged. “Do I look like a clock to you? ...It's late.”

She rolled her eyes. “I hadn't realized I was falling asleep,” she told him as he got under the covers. She waited until he made himself comfortable. “So... what do you think of me?”

He raised an eyebrow while turning to the side to face her, and briefly studied her body. “You are--”

“I mean my other self,” she clarified. “The other Bulma... do you think I'll still look good at her age?”

“Did I ever tell you you looked good?”

“Hmm, no... but I can tell you think so,” she said smirking.

“Tsk...” That fact was a little obvious. There was no point in arguing. “Why would they come to this timeline, anyway?”

“To see everyone, I suppose... I would miss my friends and family a lot if I hadn't seen them in years.”

“Still... it sounds strange,” he said thoughtful. “Trunks wasn't coming back, and here he is along with your older version... They might want something.”

“You're looking too much into it. Just leave them be... Aren't you happy to see your son again?”

“I see him every day,” he said carelessly.

“It's not the same.”

“It's the same person... I really don't care.”

“Huh... some father you are,” she reproached him. “If I was in her... my... uh, Bulma's place, I certainly wouldn't miss you.”

He knew by her tone that she wasn't serious. Still he asked. “Are you sure of that?”

“Do you think I would miss a prideful, bad tempered Saiyajin whom I barely see all day?”

“I'm sure you'd miss this,” he said, as he positioned himself over her.

“Miss what?”

 

His left hand grabbed her by the waist and the other one squeezed tightly her bottom. Bulma circled her arms around his back. He leaned to her and dragged her into a kiss, which she happily accepted. Her mouth found it hard to suppress a smile as his tongue intertwined with hers, licking her, savoring her flavour. She felt like he was taking her soul in the process. A breath-taking kiss.

When she couldn't hold it anymore, she pulled away to grasp for air.

 

“Hmm... yeah, well...” she said between breaths. “It's not like I didn't like it, but... I'm not sure if I'd miss that,” she said playfully.

Was she baiting him? “What are you talking about? I haven't done a thing, yet,” he answered matter-of-factly.

Her eyes grew big and her grin yet wider. “Then start already,” she asked him, failing at disguising her impatience. He laughed.

 

Something about her face always captivated him. Her smile was contagious, but those beautiful blue eyes threatened to disarm him completely.

 

Vegeta let himself fall carefully over her body and kissed her neck, his warmth surrounding her completely. Bulma's fingers slided slowly from his spine to his nape, making him slightly shiver. She played a little with the base of his hair until he stopped her, only to remove her light green satin nightgown and continue with his ministrations. He then licked the same spots he had previously kissed, while easily lifting her torso to unclasp her brassiere. The clothing ended up on the floor, just as everything did whenever they had a love making session.

Her milky round breasts that were now exposed, her firm soft skin, the hint of blush on her cheeks and her expectant smile were all too tempting for Vegeta. He grinned. This woman loved every single thing his tongue did to her body, and he was very aware of it. His kisses traveled down from her neck to her right breast, stopping before touching its core, waiting for her to notice what he wanted her to do.

When he didn't move, Bulma raised her head to look at him, and by the look on his eyes she instantly knew what he expected from her. She impatiently raised her chest towards his lips and he finally made the contact she wanted. At first he barely licked her nipple, just to make her suffer a little. But she took a deep breath in, and soon enough her breast was inside his mouth, the other one being caressed by his right hand. Bulma couldn't hold the moan that escaped her, she didn't even try. Vegeta knew pretty damn well what her sensitive spots were, and where and how she liked to be touched. And he enjoyed torturing her.

She grasped his hair again, strongly pulling from it, tangling it, making a mess out of it, as she always did in response to his touches. He didn't care, he knew her nails sinking into his back would come next. Her eyes were half closed, debating whether to close them completely and give in to sensation, or getting to see the man giving her pleasure.

Next thing she knew, her panties were off. How and when they left her body she was not sure. She was fully naked now for him to see. For him to touch, to feel, to play. But not before he was naked as well, she thought. Though unfortunately... or rather fortunately for Bulma, she didn't make it in time to prevent him from touching her most intimate zone. Two fingers were already testing her temperature, making her lose all control of her actions. She couldn't help but arch her back a bit, allowing him to go for more. But as soon as a hint of sanity hit her again, with a little help by putting her hands on the sides of her knees, she abruptly closed her legs, Vegeta's hand still between them. He didn't think something was wrong, but he didn't know what she wanted to do either, though that didn't last long. Bulma pushed herself up, took Vegeta's head between her hands and kissed him passionately. And the very first second she thought he seemed vulnerable, she turned him on his back.

Now she was the one on top, smirking in anticipation. Vegeta looked at her with an air of understanding and smirked as well. Lucky him, he was wearing spandex. Otherwise it would be harder to resist the pain of his erection against the clothes. Bulma squeezed once his toned thighs before ripping off his training suit. She crawled over him until she reached his face and gave him a little peck on the lips. Then one on his collarbone, one on his chest, one on his stomach, and one under his navel. Now it was skin upon skin, and the fun had only just began.

 

--

 

Bulma was wide awake, in the solitude of her dark bedroom. She had expected to hear maybe one, two, or even three moans from the room next door. But what the hell were they doing there? It seemed like a cheap adult movie in which the characters never got tired and were way too scandalous. How long since they started? About an hour? Alright, if Vegeta was in the mood she knew sometimes they spent most of the night through, but couldn't they control the volume of their cries?

She heard a scream. Oh, come on, she was never that loud, now was she? Was Vegeta that good? Hah! Of course he was, that was not something she could easily forget.

Then she almost jumped when she listened to a knocking on her wall. And another one, and another one. Dammit. Their bed was against the wall. It surprised her that it wasn't dented.

And then his voice. No, please. Not him, she begged in silence. It was already a torture to hear her own voice. But Vegeta's... in the sweetest of situations, with someone who was not exactly her. That hurt. She had no other choice but to accept it, it was her after all, and she knew from the beginning what she would have to endure when she decided to come to this timeline.

Something else called her attention. The painting of West City was shaking. Ok, so whenever Bulma and Vegeta had sex the whole city suffered the consequences, she thought ironically.

She closed her eyes and tried not to focus on what was happening a few meters from her. But it was so difficult. She reminded herself what she was here for. Vegeta. The things that were left undone when he was taken away from her. The goodbye they never had.

She heard a breathless yes from the other room, followed by something near her hitting the floor. The painting had just came off of the nail and fell. Now she knew why she had found it there hours earlier.

She felt something damp sliding down her right cheek. She rubbed the tear away with her finger, disconcerted. Why would she cry over something so insignificant? It wasn't like she actually cared for what was going on between Vegeta and the woman who was no other but her own past self. Right?

Bulma didn't notice the moment it all went silent, but she was glad she was finally falling asleep. But when she less expected it, the moans were back. She sighed. There goes another round, she thought.

Great, just great. She wouldn't be able to get some rest until those two calmed down. And worst of all was, the woman screaming wasn't her.

 

--

 

Vegeta and Bulma were lying next to one another, swimming out of the last waves of pleasure, waiting until their hearts reached normal speed again. They've had enough for the night. Vegeta's eyes were closed, but there was a smile on his face. Bulma looked at him with admiration. He was so wild, and yet so sweet to her.

 

“Vegeta...” she called him in half a whisper, in fear that he might be asleep.

“Hmph?”

“I certainly would miss that,” she admitted. He chuckled self confidently. Of course she would.

 

She turned to the side so that she could hug him around the chest, making herself more comfortable by putting a leg between his. She kissed him on the cheek and rested her head on his shoulder, breathing against his neck.

 

“I love you.” She waited for an answer that she didn't really expect, though pretty much wanted to hear. All she got was Vegeta opening his eyes to stare at her and kiss her on the forehead. “You know... this is when you say you love me too.” He raised his arm to embrace her and hold her closer, his other hand moved a strand of hair from her face and then stayed on her hip.

 

“Why would I say that?”

“You'd make me happy.”

“I thought you were happy already.”
“...But you could make me happier.”

“Happier than a moment ago?” She nodded, he laughed. “That's hard to believe.” She kept silent. “...And what if I didn't say it?”

Bulma thought for some seconds. She knew the answer to his question. It was simple, but saddening nonetheless. “One day I might just get tired of asking.”

“Then nothing would change.”

“No, nothing would change... because as much as I'd like to say I'll find someone else to say it to me, I would still love you.”

 

Her statement took him by surprise, he definitely didn't like the idea of her with someone else. He gave her a short kiss on the lips to reassure her.

 

“I never said I didn't love you, Bulma.”

And she gave him a kiss back. “You never said you did, either.”

 

He smirked, only to hide the pain her last words caused him, because he knew they hurt her too, and it was only his fault.

Vegeta gave Bulma another kiss, but it lasted just a short moment. They both were sleepy, the night had taken the best of them, and he had an intense training to do in a matter of hours. The day after tomorrow would be Trunks' birthday, and Vegeta was supposed to spend the whole day with his family. Bulma turned off the lamp close to her. They didn't speak another word and finally fell asleep in each other's arms.

 

--

 

When future Bulma entered the kitchen the next morning, she found Trunks already having breakfast. He had really made himself at home, she thought. She had no idea how many hours she had slept, but they certainly weren't enough. She still felt tired.

 

“Good morning, Trunks.”

He stiffened. “Oh... good morning, mom.”

She sat in front of him and took a toast, then she saw the circles under his eyes. “How did you sleep?”

Trunks lowered his head, he didn't want to see her in the eyes. “Hmm... fine.”

“Well, you look like you haven't slept at all.”

 

Trunks felt like he wanted to hide his face, but he just turned to the side and looked out the window, to avoid the sight of his mother.

 

Was that blush on his cheeks? “What's wrong?”

“Nothing,” he said quickly.

“Why are you so pink?”

“I'm not pink...”

This wasn't going anywhere, so she changed the subject. “Is Bulma awake yet?”

He really worried her now, he was turning red. “I... haven't seen her...”

She studied his face for a few more seconds, then she knew. “Oh, Gosh, you heard them.”

“What?”

“You heard them last night.”

“...I don't know what you're talking about,” he lied.

“Trunks!”

“Ok, maybe a little...”

She gasped in horror. “I can't believe this...” she said shaking her head in disaprovement. Then she felt the need to explain, “Trunks, I swear I never screa--”

“I don't want to know, mom!” He interrupted her.

“...Right.”

 

How degrading. Her son had to listen to his shameless parents doing this and that with no consideration for the other people in the house. And what about the baby? Did he listen to them too?

 

“I'm sorry,” she apologized. But for what? She hadn't done a thing.

“It's fine...”

 

--

 

Bulma woke up to a glorious morning. She felt good. Really good. Like every morning that followed a mind-blowing love making session. Far and forgotten was the little argument they had before she surrendered to dreamland.

She didn't want to open her eyes, but not because the sunlight entering through the window might bother her. She just wanted to believe he was there with her for a few more seconds. When she decided to get up, she stretched an arm towards his side of the bed, only to reassure herself that he wasn't there. Again.

She remembered the intense training he had planned for the day, and smiled. Tomorrow would be different. Tomorrow was their son's birthday and he would not train at all. So what if he didn't even say good morning to her today? He probably will tomorrow.

 

--

 

Trunks was about to leave the kitchen , but he stopped when he saw Bulma coming his way. He was so fast that his mother didn't notice when he sat in front of her again.

 

“Please, don't tell them anything,” he begged, making her jump in surprise.

“What?”

“Good morning, everyone!” Bulma greeted as she entered the place with a wide smile.

“Oh,” future Bulma muttered, it was easy to know what her son had meant. Don't tell mom and dad I heard them having sex.

“Hi, myself,” Bulma insisted as she kissed her counterpart on the cheek.

“Good morning, Bulma,” she responded, right before winking an eye at Trunks. She would keep his secret.

He sighed in relief. “Hi, mom.”

“You're up early,” she said to Trunks as she sat next to him.

“Huh?” He managed to say before she kissed him on the cheek as well.

She didn't notice the reaction on his face. “Well, little Trunks sleeps until--” Trunks stood up seemingly in shock and ran towards the door. “What's wrong?”

“I, uh... have things to do,” he answered quickly.

 

He felt so ashamed. He still had memories of Bulma's screamings that he wanted to forget. That never happened when he came for the second time to fight against the androids and Cell. Or at least he didn't hear them. Maybe those days were not the best to have some couple action, anyway. Or maybe they were now even closer.

But what the hell? He didn't want to think about it. They were his parents, for crying out loud!

 

“See you later, mom... and mom,” he finally said before rushing out.

“...What's his problem?” she asked her future self.

“I think he had nightmares,” the other woman answered.

“Oh...” she said uninterestedly. She observed the things on the table and decided to serve some juice for herself. She drank it while watching the older Bulma. It was still weird for her to see her other self around the house. She laid her glass on the table and continued the conversation. “So... tomorrow is both Trunks' birthday. We have no cake, we have no decorations, and we don't even have presents for them, unless you do and haven't told me about it,” she said, waiting for a response.

“I don't,” future Bulma said, already figuring where this was leading.

“Well, guess where we're going today,” she said enthusiastically.

The other Bulma gasped in excitement. How long has it been since? “We're going shopping!” she exclaimed, already wanting to head for the place.

“Exactly,” Bulma affirmed with a smirk.

 

--

 

Dragon Street Mall was one of the largest shopping centers in West City, with over two hundred and fifty shops, thirty nine restaurants and thirteen screen cinemas. Bulma's favorite. Her guest from the future observed in awe at the precinct in front of her. Ever since the androids destroyed it in her timeline, it was never reconstructed again. Not yet, at least. She couldn't wait to walk through the aisles and see what she had been missing.

A man in his forties walked out of the building, and crossed paths with them.

 

“Wow, I came to the city on a business trip, but I'd rather stay forever with such beautiful women around,” he said as he walked by.

 

The younger Bulma hid a smile. She was so used to being complimented, but she felt also uncomfortable being with her family when that things happened. “Excuse me,” she said, forcing an irritated tone that she didn't actually feel. “Don't you see I'm with my son?” Little Trunks and his future self were also there.

 

The man turned around and looked at her to respond. “I'm sorry, but I was talking about your sister,” he said before walking away.

She blinked in confusion. Sister...? “Oh...” So he was talking about future Bulma, not her. That was strange. No man had ever looked at an other woman while she was around, or so she thought. Then again, the other Bulma was still her. But how dare he think they were sisters? They sure looked much alike, but wasn't the age difference visible?

 

The older woman remained speechless. Yes, she still received compliments. Not so often, though. But she also wondered how her present counterpart would be feeling about it. She was definitely prettier, and more egocentric to boot.

 

They soon got inside the building, and were presented with a luxurious walkway and the fresh breeze of the air conditioner.

“So... how many things do we need?” the older Bulma asked.

Bulma took the shopping list out of her purse, took a look at it, and frowned. “Hmm... a lot.”

“Well, how about we distribute the things to buy and split up, so we do it faster?” Trunks suggested.

“Alright,” she agreed. She cut the list in two parts and gave the second half to the other woman.

“Cool, I get the decorations,” she exclaimed. She glanced at little Trunks, who was holding Bulma's hand, totally lost at the sight of the world of toys and games in one of the shops a few meters from them. She laughed at his excitement, and restrained an urgency to hug him. Then she looked at Bulma. “Hey, can we trade sons?” she asked her. Trunks glared at her for a second.

“What?” Bulma asked, confused.

“Take my Trunks with you, and I'll go with the little one. I'd like to spend a while with him. What do you say?”

“Oh, sure.” She squeezed slightly little Trunks' hand. “Trunks, do you want to go with Bulma?” she asked him, but he paid no attention to her. He still couldn't take his eyes off of the gigantic teddy bear behind the window.

The woman from the future knelt next to him and took his free hand. “Hey, Trunks. Wanna come and buy balloons with me?”

He turned to her immediately, his face lighting up even more, if that was possible. He instantly let go of his mother's hand and nodded in delight. “Yes!” he shouted happily, and the older Bulma stood up still holding his hand.

“Well, then. Let's go,” she said, glad to be able to be alone with Trunks' little form. This would be interesting. She turned to Bulma, who actually felt a little disappointed that her son wanted to go with the other woman rather than her. But she was jealous of nothing, she thought. “See you here in what... two hours?”

“Three,” Bulma corrected.

“Ok.”

Bulma crouched down beside the boy. “Give me a kiss, Trunks.”

He obeyed and kissed his mother sweetly on the cheek. “Bye, mommy,” he waved his hand.

“Bye, hon,” she said as she saw her future self turning around and leaving with her baby.

Well, she was not left alone. She was eager to talk to Trunks about certain things, anyway. She smiled at him and motioned her head towards one of the shops. “Alright, let's have our fun, too.”