Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ True Torture ❯ Chapter 11 ( Chapter 11 )

“We’re supposedly the reincarnations of Laab and Tana.”

Vegeta blinked twice at the ceiling, waiting for the edges of it to come into focus before turning his head toward the voice. “Wh—” He cleared his throat, and then sat up very slowly as a cup hovered close to him.

Taking the cup from the hand that held it, he drank as Bulma repeated herself. “We’re the reincarnations of Laab and Tana, according to the Yardrats.”

“Who are they?”

“Laab is some sort of fertility god that was a bit too arrogant and died. Tana is his wife who goes into the underworld to resurrect him. Every one hundred years they are reborn in two people—”

“I can move….”

Bulma frowned at the interruption but looked up from the screen she was reading. “They hit you with some kind of dart with a sleeping solution as soon as we entered the city. They took you to their medical facility and fixed you up. I didn’t get to see it….”

“You were pissed….” He remembered feeling that before he was out cold. Half of it had been from him though.

Bulma nodded, watching as Vegeta swung his feet from the bed and moved to stand on them. His motions were slow and sluggish, as were the thoughts that filtered into her head. “The drugs will wear off soon. It’s best if you wait….”

He grunted and slowly sat back down, the world spinning on its axis before righting itself. Another cup of water was handed to him, and he took it. “How did you find out about that legend?”

“I looked it up.” She held up the screen and then set it back on her lap. “Apparently the language humans speak is known as the language of trade in space.” Her brows furrowed. “If I didn’t have other concerns, I’d be investigating how we have the most common language in the known universe.”

Vegeta’s brows rose as he drained his cup a second time. ‘What in the world could she have that’s pressing? She’s not the one worried about—’

“I’m creating the schematics for a training facility for you. I’m just as worried about all of this as you are. I mean it’d be pointless to wish back our planet and all the people on it if Frieza is alive to just casually destroy it all again.”

Blinking, Vegeta slowly began to rebuild the mental walls he’d had. He assumed that the drug was making it more difficult.

 “As I was saying before, apparently every one hundred years these two are reborn and destined to reenact the same events as they first occurred.”

“I am not a god of fertility.”

Bulma stared at him for a moment, then her mouth opened and laughter spewed forth. Vegeta cursed loudly and folded his arms across his chest, his curses continuing in Bulma’s head.

When she had finally calmed down, she waved her hand. “No, you are not a god of fertility, and I’m not your wife. The description of the two of them certainly fits us, and those are supposed to be the signs these people look for.”

“Why should I care about any of this—”

“Because it directly correlates to what they did to you.”

“What did they do to me?” He was sitting up again, back stiff and straight. He glared at her as if she had been the one to do it to him.

“I don’t know. They won’t tell me.”

“I’ll make them tell me.”

Bulma’s eyes widened and she stood quickly, setting the screen beside her on the table with the pitcher of water. She walked right to the edge of the bed, leaning down toward Vegeta. “You won’t accomplish anything by killing them! They certainly won’t tell you if you do!”

“If you think I’m going to just sit here—!”

“I know you’re not! You’re going to train to defeat Frieza; I’m going to figure out what they’ve done!”

Lips tightening, Vegeta narrowed his eyes at the woman standing with her hands on her hips. “I’m supposed to just trust you?”

“You can read my mind, Vegeta. You’d know the instant I was lying or had any ‘traitorous’ thoughts.”

Bulma almost swore she could hear electricity crackling as they looked into each other’s eyes. Finally Vegeta grunted and broke eye contact. “Don’t forget it either.”

Bulma leaned back, throwing up her arms in exasperation. “I’m going to go take a bath now!”

She suddenly lurched back, a slow blush crawling onto her face as she stared at an equally red Vegeta. An image of her naked in water had just popped into her head. And despite how attractive she was, she hadn’t thought of it.

“V-Vegeta!”

“What?” His glare wasn’t nearly as effective when even his thoughts were colored by embarrassment. “Get out of my head, aware na onna!”

Bulma flung her arms at him helplessly, turning to stalk from the room. It was just another useless man ogling her. She shouldn’t feel flattered. She especially shouldn’t feel flattered by this particular man. He was a mass murderer! He’d killed Yamcha, her boyfriend. He wanted to kill her….

She paused in the hallway, thinking over what had happened on Namek: Aware na onna. As far as I am concerned you and I are even. They were even? He had wanted vengeance on her. Basically he believed that he had gotten it. And he was probably right.

But it wasn’t really vengeance he had extracted. In a sense, he had saved her, and not just once.

In fact, in the time since he had overcome the drug she had given him, her impression of him had changed. Maybe it had even changed before then….

Bulma shook her head, trying to relieve herself of disconcerting thoughts as she continued to her bath. *   *   *

“You’ve put…mud in him?”

The Yardrats all turned and conferred with one another in their own language, before they turned, the appointed speaker answering. “Yes, the closest translation is mud. His body will react to it soon.”

“React?” She stared at each Yardrat seated around their circular table. She didn’t like this at all. Too much was at stake for them to have to worry about something more, or to play along with their mythology. Unfortunately, they’d already done something, so the only key to this problem was their mythology.

“His body will react to it….” He looked to the others and exchanged a couple words with them. Then he turned back to Bulma. “He will feel ill. After a time, he may die from it.”

Bulma stood quite suddenly, slamming the palms of her hands into the table. “You poisoned him?”

The Yardrats all jumped in their seats, voices rising in alarm. The main spokesman waved his hands, calming them down. He turned to Bulma and spoke in a lecturing tone. “We did not poison him. We put mud in him. As our legend says, he will die and you will go to retrieve him.”

“We are not these two people from your legend! Vegeta can’t die or Frieza is going to kill us all!”

The Yardrat speaking to her only smiled. Then he leaned over as if to pat her hand. Bulma quickly snatched it back, anger coloring her face and motions. “Do not worry. We have faith in you, Tana-Bulma.”

Looking at them, she realized she would get nowhere this way. In fact, she’d only hinder things the more she protested. She gritted her teeth, her mouth a thin line, and turned from the group. As she neared the door, she faced them again. “Do nothing else to him, do you understand? If you do…you will feel my wrath….”

She personally didn’t think the threat was that convincing, but the Yardrats all bowed to her. With a strained expression, she left the room.

‘What the hell is your problem, woman?’

Bulma almost jumped, stilling before she remembered that Vegeta could at the least feel things from her. She scowled at the empty air and continued her walk toward Vegeta’s rooms. ‘I just found out what they did to you….’

‘And…?’

‘A nd that legend you dismissed so easily is the problem and the solution. They wanted to give it a little kick-start. I’m going to have to research it more.’

‘And what about my Gravity Room?’

‘I’ve handed the schematics off—’

‘To these crazies?’

‘I didn’t tell them what it was. Only that I wanted it made now and to my exact specifications. They’ll take up any problems or questions with me.’ She was actually glad he hadn’t pursued what exactly they had done to him. She was trying her best not to voice those thoughts.

‘This Tana-Bulma thing is getting to your head.’

She entered in his rooms to see him on the floor beside his bed, doing pushups on one finger with an arm behind his back. Putting both hands on her hips, she glared at him. “And that just proves you have been paying attention.”

“I have ears.”

He didn’t stop his pushups, and Bulma found them to be distracting since his shirt was missing. She walked to the far window and looked out of it. “If they want to say I’m some kind of legendary god-like being then I’m going to use it to its fullness.”

“I bet this Tana was a complete bitch.”

Bulma whirled on him, face red with anger and ready to take out her frustrations on anything. Vegeta made a great target for it. “And I bet Baal was a bastard.”

“But I’m not buying into these legends.”

“We don’t have a choice!”

Vegeta did stop then, and Bulma wished she hadn’t said anything. He stood and faced her, crossing his arms over his chest. “What did they do to me?”

“I’m not sure.” At the incredulous look he gave her, she sighed. “They said they put mud in you.”

“Mud?” Now his tone was incredulous as well. “What the hell—”

“I don’t know! I have to research it more! They said it’s not poison, but—”

“But? No, there can’t be a ‘but’ there. They healed me to fight Frieza. Why would they poison me?”

“Because they think you’re a part of this legend. I told you, Laab got arrogant and died. Tana goes into the Underworld and rescues him.”

“How the hell does poisoning me fit into that?”

Bulma frowned and purposefully moved past him, toward the desk where she’d laid the computer. “I’m not sure…. It’s not really important. What’s important is finding out what this mud is. Once I do that I can find out how to…cure it or whatever.”

“Why not just let the…mud take its course?”

She turned, her eyebrows raised, and saw him staring at her evenly. He wasn’t asking it literally, but rather reflectively. He wanted to know why she wasn’t using this to take her revenge.

She ducked her head a little, aiming away from him. She heard him follow her movement, moving to sit on the bed beside her. “You said we were even.”

“I said I was even with you.”

He hadn’t said that she was even with him. She hadn’t said it either. Her thoughts had in fact been going back to that very point. Maybe he had felt something…. Not for the last time she wished they didn’t have…whatever they had.

“I….” She looked up at him then, meeting him as squarely as he met her. “You’ve saved Gohan…and me. You’ve saved me twice.”

“I did it—”

“I know you had reasons. They don’t matter to me so much as that you did that. After all I did to you, and all you did to me, we’re still managing to save each other’s asses more often than carrying out our threats. We have a saying on Earth: actions speak louder than words.”

He stared at her for a moment, and then nodded, apparently satisfied. Sighing, he leaned back in the bed, arms beneath his head as he continued to watch her. “Where do you sleep?”

“Oh, I was sleeping in the chair. I think the Yardrats expected us to sleep together.”

There was a long pause as both thought about that. They both reacted at the same time to the silence. Bulma rose, computer in her hands while Vegeta rolled off the bed and stood. “Well, I better get to checking on—”

“I need to shower—”

They both went silent again, and then Bulma cleared her throat. “Down the hall, then take the first two lefts. The squiggly circle is the females’ and the weird square is the males’.”

Vegeta nodded, staring at her a bit longer before he turned on his heels and strode out the door. Bulma felt herself finally breath and clenched the laptop tighter to her stomach.

Obviously they were both sharing this awkwardness whenever this…sort of thing came up. Considering they’d both been thinking of it, it had come up a lot. For some reason, the fact that it was shared didn’t make Bulma feel better.

Admitting to herself that she was attracted to Vegeta wasn’t the problem. It was the part, the big part, of her that wanted to act on that attraction that was the problem.

As Vegeta walked to the showers, he reflected on the same thing, wondering why his mind leapt from that thought to trying to figure out how to make the action a reality. *   *   * “It looks small.” Bulma let out an aggravated sigh and moved herself from under the panel, just enough to view the complainer. “You’re the only one that’ll be using it.” “It should be bigger.” Shaking her head, Bulma decided ignoring him would be best. So she sent him a glare and returned to her work. Vegeta shifted and turned his attention back to the woman lying on her back. He folded his arms tighter on his chest and just watched. Without her looking he was free to stare at her as she tweaked this or that thing. Her shoulders moved slightly, and then her legs would open up more. The panel covered her chest, but he did have an imagination. “What do you want, Vegeta?” He almost jumped at the sound of her voice. “I’m just making sure you aren’t messing it up.” “How in the world would you be able to tell?” He scowled at her, though she still wasn’t looking at him. “Well you said today it would be done, and it’s not.” “They did the wiring wrong for the reverse hydraulics. Unless you want to eat ceiling when you start up the gravity I suggest you just let me fix it. Go…do some pushups or something.” “How long will it take?” “Longer if you keep bugging me?” She heard a snort and then silence and breathed a sigh of relief. “Stupid Saiyajin.” “I’m standing right here.” Jumping, she let out a curse and flung the nearest tool she had, a wrench, at his feet. It landed short of him. He didn’t even flinch. She pulled herself out from under the panel and again glared at him. “Find something to do!” “I am finding something to do.” The man had the audacity to smirk at her then. She continued to glare as she walked over and picked up her wrench. When she straightened Vegeta was staring at her. “What?” “How can you wear pants that short?” “Don’t look at my ass!” “Well you did bend over right in front of me. It was there.” “Kami!” “We should get it out of our system.” Bulma’s head shot up, eyes wide. “Get what out of our system?” Vegeta actually looked uncomfortable. He gestured between the two of them. “This. It’s distracting.” Huffing, Bulma turned from him and toward the panel again. Did she even dare to crawl under there with him watching? She could feel his eyes. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She felt her arm suddenly grabbed and she was whirled around. She let out a gasp of surprise as black eyes were locked with hers. Vegeta did not look happy at all. “This is distracting, and I don’t like distractions. Either we get it out of our system or I’ll die of this…mud because you’re too overcome with it to think straight!” “Excuse me but I’m not the one who charged in here saying we should have sex!” There was an awkward silence as both stilled at the words. Bulma pulled at the arm he held in his grip and he let it go, sneering. “You can’t pretend to be innocent, woman. I know.” “Thinking and doing are two very different things. I have a boyfriend. And after Frieza is taken care of, he’ll be brought back.” “What does he have to do with this?” “Everything! I’m not going to cheat on him! And I’m certainly not going to get distracted. Maybe you have problems focusing, but I don’t!” Vegeta leaned back then, his face hardening at the obvious insult. His eyes narrowed and he leaned in close to her. “We’ll see just how well you do then.” “What’s that—” He turned suddenly on his heels, ignoring her, and stalked from the room. As she watched him walk out, obviously pissed off, she reflected that perhaps that wasn’t the best thing to say to him. For a moment, she’d forgotten who and what he was. Yamcha may have been able to just cringe at that and go on, but Vegeta was a Saiyajin and a Prince. He would see it as an insult to himself and a challenge to prove her wrong. It wasn’t as if she’d let him prove her wrong, but it was just another problem on a growing list.