Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Who Do You Think You're Messing With? ❯ Part Two ( Chapter 2 )

Who Do You Think You're Messing With?

Chapter Two

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The evening glistens around me with the hum of voices and activity. Laughter and conversation intermingle in a lover's dance, played expertly by the pianist at the end of the room. The highly polished cut-glass of twin champagne flutes sparkle in front of the lit candle centered romantically on the table. Thoughtfully I pick one up, not caring that I'm now on my own, when the other couples are pairing off to dance.

I feel strangely content watching tonight. I have resigned myself to the fact I will never traverse that floor again, and so I have to be strong in my mind. I am Bulma Briefs, not some weak little floweret that will wilt and die without the support of a man. I will inure myself and I will walk on with my head held high. Change is not always easy. Conformity and conventions are not simply put aside, but I have done both.

I can still see the look that poured in a river of resignation as I spoke to Yamcha over my dinner of minted lamb. He almost choked on his pasta as I gently took him by the hand and spoke softly.

"Yamcha…" I started, my mind desperately trying to find the right words. "I brought you here for a reason. Do you know why?"

He smiled, making my task ten times more difficult. "Of course, babe. It's our restaurant. We came here when I first moved into the city. It seems so long ago now, isn't it amazing how little has changed?"

"Are you sure it's not so different?"

"Well, they added the new bar and the wallpaper over there, but other than that…"

I swallowed a lump in my throat, "No, Yamcha. I don't mean the décor. I mean us. Do you think we've changed?"

"Sure we have! We're grown up now and I've even died once, it's bound to affect us one way or another."

"Yes," I agreed, quick to catch him on the right train of thought. "You're right, but change doesn't always make things better or people more... more… attached. Do you see what I'm trying to say here?"

His large eyes locked meaningfully onto mine. I needn't have asked. He knew, "Bulma…" he began, but I could tell he didn't want to admit to it. "I still love you. That counts for something right?"

I smiled, the strain of holding back tears becoming more painful by the second, "It counts for a lot," I replied.

"Then we can work through anything," he smiled reassuringly. "You know how often we've been through this, how our relationship has struggled, but so long as we have the love then it can work. I know it can, Bulma. Don't stop believing that!"

I hesitated. There was something so right and energetic in his voice when he spoke. It made me doubt my own mind. I felt that maybe I had been mistaken… we'd been through so much as a couple, didn't we deserve another chance?

I had never felt so uncertain about the future as I did then. I liked the comfort he offered, the grounding and knowledge that he'd be there for me forever, but wasn't that the problem? Wasn't that what had brought everything bubbling up to this point? I want excitement. I want the heady adrenaline that I have been chasing since I learned about the mystical legend of the dragonballs. Yamcha didn't generate excitement anymore, at least not in what I saw for my future.

"You'll always have my love," I sighed, looking down at my plate. "But… sometimes you have to know when to stop trying, and admit defeat. I don't like it, but we've done this so many times. I don't think it can be saved now, not without pushing us even further apart. I'll say again… you'll always have my love, Yamcha, but at the moment all I feel for you is the love of a life-long friend. That makes being together, fooling your heart in this way… wrong."

He watched me in a daze of pain, and I felt a tear fall disobediently down my cheek. "I… I'm sorry." I blurted in a half sob.

"So you're just going to give up?" He questioned, a hint of anger spilling into his voice. "After all the work we put into this?"

"I'm not giving up Yamcha, I'm making a clean break."

"Clean break," he said, mocking the thought, "Or a fresh start with someone else?"

I knew precisely where his thoughts were, and I found denying it useless.

"This is because of Vegeta, isn't it?" he accused.

"Perhaps…" I stumbled, "Perhaps it is. I don't know, Yamcha. I just don't know anymore."

I rubbed a hand over my forehead. It was like some surreal dream I had played over in my head a million times. Only this time I knew it was flesh and blood reality, rather than the wisps and confused pattern of imagination. One thing was for certain though. I couldn't lie to him anymore. I had avoided telling him this, but how could I expect him to keep me as a friend if I left it a secret?

"I kissed him."

His fork clanged noisily to the plate. "You what…?"

"After we had that argument Friday night. I kissed Vegeta, and he… he kissed me back." I looked nervously up to see how he was taking it, playing with the tufts of hair at the nape of my neck.

"Do you want a relationship with him?" He asked, his voice shaky and cracked. He looked at me so desperately, willing for me to answer in the negative. "Is that what this is all about?"

"I can't deny that I'm attracted to him," I admitted.

I was choking back tears by this point as I saw the hurt flash across his strong features. "What can he offer you that I can't Bulma-chan?" He asked in painful emotion, rubbing a thumb over my cheek. "How can a cold blooded killer possibly make you happy?"

I reclaimed his hand, removing it from my face. "He can't." I snapped, "No one can… at least not until I know just what it is that I want. This isn't about Vegeta, love, need or desire, this is about me making a decision and acting on it."

"Do you realize how selfish that sounds?" He spat, my words physically morphing his countenance into defensive anger.

"Yes, but I have a right to be selfish. This is my life and at the moment I'm lost in it. Don't blame me for wanting to change that."

"I don't blame you for that," he snarled, standing and removing the napkin from his lap, "I blame you for trying to do it alone, when you have so many people willing and eager to help. You can't keep pushing people away, Bulma. One day you'll be sorry for all this and don't expect me to be there to pick up the pieces when you realize just what a huge mistake you've made."

I felt my heart become heavier as I looked down to the table. I had known this wasn't going to be pretty, but I had hoped… hoped to keep any lasting bitterness out of it. It was vain hope though, I see that now. He mumbled something about me being an even bigger idiot than he was for believing in me, as he threw the napkin angrily down and walked away.

There was no "goodnight Bulma," or "I understand that this is for the best," as the fantasy of my thoughts had hoped there would be. No amicable settlement that would instantly transform us from lovers to friends. Time was the only thing that could work in my favor. There was nothing I could say or do that would stunt the flow of Yamcha's anger. I just had to hope that at some point further down the road he would see that this was right for me, for both of us.

Having Vegeta's name thrust into the fray had been twice as bad. I still don't quite know what I am feeling, but I know it scares the shit out of me. I mean, it's Vegeta! Isn't that enough to put the fear of hell in any woman? Who in their right mind would throw away virtually a lifetime of devotion from someone as wonderful, faithful and gentle as Yamcha, for the uncertainty and unknown quantity of the Saiyan no Ouji? Why had I even run to him in the first place?

The answer is perhaps as infuriatingly indecisive as the question itself. It's because, despite his past, his behavior, and his general disgust with the world, I've actually come to recognize him as a friend. I have learnt so much about him, become close in an everyday muddle of conflicting emotions, witnessed so much pride and self-belief… that I actually admire him. I'm actually capable of strong emotional and transient freedom when I'm close to him, in a way I have never experienced before.

He has crushed many a soul before… of that I am sure, but even through the thin veil of insults and contemptible anger, he has never once judged me harshly. Never once told me I should live my life a certain way, and even on occasion has let me babble about my stifled life without contempt or flattered judgment. He is the most brutally honest man I have known. He doesn't disguise his disgust of the people and absurdities around him, and yet he has still managed to make me understand and appreciate what I can have, of what I can feel and experience if only I would reach out from behind the blinds of conventionality to take it.

He has offered me as much as he can. He has promised me passion. Isn't that a part of the new life I want to live? For the reckless self-abandon and escape from the woman strained to the edge of societal boundaries because of her job and choice of lifestyle?

I take another nervous sip from the elegant glass as the music ends and the restaurant starts to empty. I get the unconscious feeling that it's about time I was making a move to leave as well, but I can't force myself to stand just yet. At home there is Vegeta, and when I get there I can't run away from him, or what I class as my interest in him. I have to have my mind completely agreed before I even step through the front door.

I had hoped that he would be too consumed in his training when Yamcha arrived to notice that he was there and that I'd invited him. I had hoped to keep this last meeting a secret from his ever-vigilant Saiyan eyes, but I guess I underestimated his tenacity. So I made sure to exude my normal confidence, not wanting the moment to pass in anything other than the confusion of normalcy that I find has become all too much like second nature to me.

I knew it was wrong to play up so deceptively in front of them both, but I was still mad at Vegeta for offering me something that promised so much and yet not all the answers I craved. I am stuck in the maddening position of wanting the best of both worlds. The passion is gone from my relationship with Yamcha, but I likewise know that Vegeta will never be tamed. I don't think I want him to be. Perhaps… perhaps this is made all the more confusing because I don't know where he has drawn the line.

Vegeta's idea of commitment is very different than most would view it. Commitment for him is akin to obsession. Can I blame him for not wanting another obsession in his life, when I can see how much the ones already in place have tormented him? Can I live with that? I doubt he has the capacity to be used by a woman on some vapid quest to find her true self, so that leaves me with the million zeni question, what are his true intentions in offering himself to me?

I am the only customer still in the restaurant, and I can see the headwaiter looking at me, nervously wringing his hands. I roll my eyes and sigh once, motioning him over and passing him my credit card. As he wanders off to make the transaction, I get up and pluck my handbag and jacket from the floor. I sign the white slip when he returns and with a mumbled "Thank you" and the customary hundred-zeni tip, I leave.

The air nips icily against the fabric of my thin dress, and I shiver as I dig around the bottom of my handbag for my capsule case. Finding it, I select the right vehicle and let it explode on the edge of the roadside. I have a vast variety of vehicles at my disposable, and I'm glad that tonight I had the foresight to bring something sensibly warm and easy to drive. I get the distinct impression my attention to the road will be divided on my journey home.

Once I am behind the wheel I turn the stereo up to full volume letting the anguished music of my favorite rock band blear noisily over my thoughts. The ride home passes in a vacant flow, and I find that I am turning into the large shingled drive of Capsule Corporation before I am fully aware, and with no more certainty than when I was sat at the restaurant twenty minutes ago.

I look to the seamless dash, watching as the clock clicks up to midnight. All the lights in the main house are off. Only the faint glow of security lighting can be seen illuminating its domed structure. Perhaps I will be lucky. It doesn't look like anyone is still awake. I might be able to sneak into the house unnoticed. Then I can ponder my situation into the blissful folds of ignorant sleep.

Stepping out of the vehicle, I make sure to close the door behind me as quietly as possible, forsaking re-caspulation so as not to draw any unnecessary attention. I even go so far as to tiptoe up to the front door, cursing as the gravel crunches under my open-toed shoes. I fumble in my purse again, this time for the front door keycard. I can feel it under my searching fingers, but it's rendered useless as the door opens of its own accord.

"Did you have a pleasant evening?" asks a voice that instantly throws my body into confusion.

"Not particularly," I shrug, walking over the threshold, laying my purse on the dresser, and letting the door lock shut behind me. "Was there a power cut?"

"No. I simply chose not to bother switching the lights on."

"Oh," I say dismissively, "In that case, I'm going to bed. Night, night Vegeta."

Somehow I knew he wouldn't let me go so easily, and he proves me right as he grabs me by the elbow when I try to walk past him.

"Where is the human?" he enquires, his voice deep and distorted with contempt.

"I don't know," I spit, "at home most likely. I guess it wasn't on his list of priorities to tell me his plans when he called me an idiot and stormed out of the restaurant."

There is silence, but I expect to hear that berating chuckle any moment. Fortunately it never comes. Vegeta's hand tightens around my arm, pulling me to face him. "And why would he call you an idiot?"

"Probably…" I whisper, wanting to look at the floor, but becoming trapped in the spell of his heavily shadowed eyes, "Probably because I told him I kissed you."

He smirks, "For once I'd say he was right. It was an idiotic thing to do."

His hand releases my elbow drawing an imaginary line up to my shoulder. "I don't remember you objecting at the time." I accuse, trying to stop my body from shaking in anticipation for what might come next.

"I've already told you, Bulma," he growls, turning us around so my body is pushed up against the wall, "For me there was nothing to object to. Tell me your answer," he coaxes. "I want to know just how idiotic you are prepared to be?"

"I…" I shift uncomfortably under his gaze, "I don't know. Maybe you should tell me again what exactly it is that you want, Vegeta."

"Foolish ningen!" He snarls, grabbing my shoulders and brushing his lips enticingly over mine, "I want you."

"How do you want me?"

The chuckle I had expected earlier now makes an appearance and I blush, "In as many ways as possible, of course."

"Asshole!" I snap, "You know what I meant."

"What is your preoccupation with this, Bulma?" he mutters, his eyes searching mine, "Does there have to be a reason?"

"Yes," I reply. "Yes there does! Do you care about me?"

Silence.

"Do you want this to be a once off? Are we just going to use each other for sex once in a while when we're bored with our ordinary lives? Are we…?"

"Enough!" he snaps, holding up a hand to silence me. "You worry too much about the future. For once in your goddamned life… let it go! We will share each others bodies… we will make each other scream in pleasure that no other creature could possibly comprehend and we will continue to do it exclusively so long as the passion keeps telling us that we need it. Is that agreed?"

I am at a loss for words. There is so much primal and domineering enthusiasm behind his speech that my breath is taken clean away.

"Is that agreed?" he persists, catching my chin in his hand and forcing me to look at him.

"And what if the passion runs out?" I ask, half fearful of the answer, "Are you prepared for that?"

He chuckles again, this time forcing his lips onto mine and crushing them so keenly that I feel lightheaded. "No," he mumbles into a tangle of desire on my lips. "I don't intend on ever finding that out."

I look up, and suddenly my whole world has changed. Not five days ago Vegeta had said no commitment, and yet… yet… "What exactly did you mean by no commitment?" I stutter, pushing him slightly away before I am suddenly in too deep to think properly. His words are contradictory, which is too bizarrely out of character to go unexplored.

"No ties, woman, that's what I mean. I don't want to feel trapped at Capsule Corporation or on this planet because of you. I will not be a doting fool. I will always be myself and if that requires leaving planet for months at a time, if I need to train in my own space, or go on a mission that may mean my destruction then that is what I will do and you will accept as much. That is what I mean by no commitment."

I feel so unsure under his words.

"You know as well as I do that it will never work under other circumstances, Bulma. For either of us… we both enjoy our independence too much." His lips have now left mine to trail a path of desire down my neck, "Do you accept this?"

I can't explain what I am feeling right now. My whole mind is consumed in a kind of jangled anticipation, if I go back, how can I live with knowing what might have been, and if I go on how can I live with knowing what I've left behind?

"All you have to do is say yes or no. It's that simple." He continues, expertly lifting the dress straps from my shoulders, kissing under one and then readjusting it.

His ki floods over me and I close my eyes, breathing it through with the flow of my blood. "I…"

He grabs me around the waist, stooping to lick a path across my collarbone.

"I…"

"Yes," he growls against my ribcage, finding the edge of my bra, and pulling gently at the material, "Or no." he continues, pushing it back, flat against my skin once more.

This is insane and so am I. All at once I don't care about the past. Ever since I came back from Namek my life has been spiraling out of control, culminating in the lunacy of this moment. That planet and the adventures I had there changed the way I think and feel. They changed who I am, what I want, what I need. I left my old life and all the promise it once offered there, and I feel it explode into oblivion as I mumble one word.

"Yes."

Vegeta stops, looks up to me and at once I can feel how much I have gained as his usual smirk forms into one of the most handsome smiles I have ever witnessed.

"Say it again!" he demands, standing up and resting his head on mine.

"Yes," I repeat.

"Louder!" he insists as my voice wobbles.

"YES!" I scream at him, "Fuck yes!" and at once I am pushed into the plaster, as his passion is no longer hidden under the restraint of self-control.

"Good!" he chuckles over my yelp, as we both lose ourselves in the glory of each other, "Because I wouldn't have let you say 'no' anyway!"

The End.

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Special thanks go to Lisa B for beta-ing this story for me. You're great gal! *Hugs*

AN - Sorry if you wanted lemon, but I didn't want this story to be dependant on it, so purposefully left it out. This fic ends here… forever, but that doesn't mean I don't want to know what you thought of it. ^-^' *hugs* Ember