#day5waterfall

[hellsbells9000]

@tpthvegebulsmutfest    Day 5: Waterfall  A day late but I really couldn’t pass up this prompt

[jonahwhalesw1]

Personal Connection- Ch.5 (Waterfall)

Here’s my submission for the fifth prompt for the @tpthvegebulsmutfest .  And “Personal Connection” is now officially up and running on Ao3 as well.

The first half of this is really, really angst heavy. I have some things going on in my personal life and I decided to put those feelings to good use by including both sides of it in this story for both Vegeta and Bulma's point of views. So there's a TON of angst then some smut then more angst then some fluff then a little more smut. A big thanks to my friend, David (aka @bulgeta-vegebul) for helping me write this chapter and "Killing Bites Anime" as well as "Hunter X Hunter" get references in here.

In the last chapter, everything went to hell when Yamcha showed up. But his appearance forced Papa Briefs to confess that Vegeta had come to ask permission to date Bulma before going to meet her at the *ahem* conference room. With that revelation, Bulma dedicates herself to finishing a private project for Vegeta that she's been working on in secret ever since he first came to live at Capsule Corp. Meanwhile, Vegeta is still convinced that the Woman has rejected him...

He was relentless. He worked himself until he felt like every single one of his muscles would snap like overstretched rubber bands beneath his skin.  He had to. Anything to stop the tears that wouldn’t stop stinging his eyes.  Anything to take his mind anywhere but…Anything to forget her.  To forget everything about her.  To forget how she made him feel.  The smile that she didn’t know she brought to his face when he could sense her near.  The way his heart fluttered when…she…she…

No, this had to stop. He had to move on.  It had been a flirtation.  Nothing more.  A bit of adult fun.  There had been no strings attached.  They had never mentioned anything about taking their carnal interests beyond just fucking for fun and release.

I made love to you, Bulma, did you feel it? I made love to you.

He had been a fool. A pathetic…stupid…fool.  Once…once people met him, got to know him, the few he let near enough to, they left him.  They always turned and ran.  It hurt. It always hurt, but he hoped, he hoped that this time would be different…But it wasn’t.  All it had been to her was sex.

But to him it had meant so much more.  When she wasn’t around, he felt it.  And he waited until she returned.  He waited to hear her voice.  To talk to him with her vulgarity and her laughter.  To tease him.  He would wait for her.  And wait. And wait.  Wait to hear from her…and she, she, his eyes stung and he gritted his teeth and squeezed them shut against the tide.

Vegeta never really reached out to anyone, but when he did, he did it with all of himself. There had been times when it had been taken and used as a joke about him, against him.  Times when his hand had been slapped back in his face.  But her, at least she had stopped and looked at his hand.  He had hoped she would take it, but perhaps that was even more foolish of him than usual…but he was so lonely.  A loneliness that people rarely understood or had even felt themselves.  A loneliness that caused desperation.  And so he had reached out…to her…and waited for that slap to come yet again.

And it did.

More bitterly than he could have ever imagined.  She had pulled away from him.  Suddenly closed herself off to him.  Denied him back into her room…into her arms.

He had been a fool. That was it.  A complete fool.

He had asked the Father for permission to date his daughter, as was the custom on Earth, and asked to become her mate, as was the Saiyan custom, if she would allow.  The Father had asked what mating meant to a Saiyan and after he had explained, the older man had taken a long time to think before giving his blessing and helping him tie that ridiculous neckwear.  And now that was all for nothing.

He had been a fool. An absolute, utter fool.

It was only when every drone had been destroyed that Vegeta finally allowed himself to lower to the floor.  He stood there as minutes ticked away into hours, straining against the incredible gravity with destruction sparking and sputtering all around him.  

It was overwhelming.

Not the gravity.

The loneliness. It was a…he struggled to breathe. Shut his eyes.  Felt the stinging that never truly left.  Then opened his eyes again, slowly.  It was a numbness that filled his chest…like an armor he never waned to ever wear…it spread through his arms…tingled his hands in a way that made him feel like he was disappearing…it gripped his heart with a vise that...No, it hollowed his heart.  He tried to feel, always at first thought it was a death grip on his soul, but it always proved to be…a lie he told himself to keep himself going, moving.  But in the end, it always hit him how powerful it was…the sense of loss.  It was a hole there.  As vast as space.  As pitiless. Void.

That was it.  He felt himself become a void.

Vegeta looked up at the ceiling.  Lowered his fists to his sides.  And felt the pressure weigh down on him with crushing weight.  He closed his eyes as his jaw slackened open and he breathed again. At least here, he felt something. He wasn’t numb here.  Gravity wouldn’t allow him to feel anything other than his own mortality…

Do I really need immortality? It had been ages since the thought occurred to him.  His wish when he’d been hunting down the dragon balls had been to never die so that he could destroy Frieza and rule the universe…but wishes had changed, time had changed.  If having immortality meant that he could never feel this crushing weight that would restore the feeling to his soul through all the hollow, then…Vegeta didn’t want it.  He wanted to feel this.  He didn’t want it to go away.  If it went away, then he’d feel, he’d feel…nothing.

He hated feeling nothing.  He hated feeling like nothing…

Vegeta walked over to the control console and steadily typed in the commands that shut down the Gravity Room.  He listened as the roaring hum began to quiet…and quiet…dying.  In his ears.  

…Then the silence took over.

Vegeta stood there with his finger lying on the last button and listened…to nothing.  His eyes moved around…seeing nothing.

How long had it been since nothing had become his friend?  How long had it been since nothing had become his only true companion in life?  How long had it been since nothing…was the only lover he returned to?

He looked down at his feet.  Watched as small splashes hit the tiles between the toes of his boots.

Was there no one? He had given himself to someone. He had given all he had to give.  All he had was his body…and a kind ear to all of her hurt and pain that her ex had caused and continued to cause in her…and…and…in a way, he had given his heart to someone he didn’t really know…had moments of lust that made the loneliness ebb for a time…flirtations that had made his heart skip a beat and brought the smirk, a smile to his face…honest conversations…but.  But. He was alone again.  Lust had been stopped in the middle…and he was left alone. Again.  Always again.  He had put his clothes back on…walked out of his room…and set back to what was familiar to him, comforting to him, he hid in his work.  This work.  Let his thoughts, his musings run wild and guide his hands, guide his fingers to let them out, loose, without restraint.  Despite that, he still left a door open for her in him with a single question he left hanging in the air:  Did I do something wrong?  He had no idea how long the silence before an answer would last.  If there ever would come an answer.  He knew not to pry, lest harsh reality slap his hand back in his face again.  Reality always did that to him.  But, despite that, he would reach out his hand for her again.  Even if it was only ever going to be talking ever again…Anything was better than silence.

Vegeta wiped away his tears and heaved a sigh in his chest that made no sound.  Was he always destined to be alone with nothing? Truly, was there no one?  Couldn’t he and she be alone together? Why…couldn’t they…simply…be…together? Why?  Why always alone?  Was he choosing this?  Was she choosing this for both of them?  He turned away from the console and watched his feet move him to the door.  He wiped his tears one last time before raising his head and opening the door, facing what lay beyond.

It was night. Dark.  Starless.  Moonless. He walked out of the Gravity Room and shut the door behind him.  He walked to the main house of the Capsule Corp compound.  It was cold out.  Chiller than usual for this time of year like snow was hanging in the air just waiting to fall in inches of fluffy flakes.  There were no lights on anywhere.  All was silent and dark.  Everyone gone to bed…had she gone to bed?  Without him beside her?  Without him satisfying her?  Satisfying both of them?

Despite that, he still left a door open for her in him.  Despite that, he would reach out his hand for her again.

Did I do something wrong?

If you just want to talk, I’m still here.

Good night.  I’m…sorry.  Like I said, I’m still here to talk.  If you want to.

Anything was better than silence, he floated up to the balcony of his room.  He saw and smelled the tray of food the Mother must have brought him in concern for him, but he felt no hunger.  He had been hungry for her, but…  Vegeta reached over and took up the small mug of cold coffee and drank.  Anything was better than loneliness.

*                      *                      *

Her bright blue eyes slowly opened and she—blinked.  He wasn’t there.  Her head popped up as she suddenly remembered where she was.  Her lab.  She was in her personal lab.  Not her bedroom.  Not in bed with Vegeta.  It had been such a short time, but she’d already gotten used to waking up to him.  She sat up and looked back down at the plans she had been working on, final touches…then she looked over at the massive project filling the entire space…she got up from her work bench and walked through the thing one more time, final touches. She had to check on the final touches. Make sure they were the right touches. She wanted it to be perfect, absolutely perfect.

Not for the first time how ridiculous she was behaving hit her.  Smacked her in the face like a purse full of bricks.  Do you have any idea how stupid you look?  How stupid you’re behaving?  How stupid all of this is?!  But…to not do this, well…that just wasn’t her.  It was foolish and extreme and she was fairly certain there was a psychosis going on here, but she couldn’t help that when she fell for someone, even a little bit, she went all in on them, with them whether they were all in with her or not.  Give her an inch, a sliver of hope, and she’d run with the sucker for as long as she could, for as far as she could until that inch, that sliver was yanked away from her.  And it was going to have to be yanked.  She wasn’t one to just let go without a good reason.  Cheat on her, yes, your ass gets handed back to you on silver platter marked Capsule Corp.  Don’t do that and she wouldn’t back down, wouldn’t back off, would never take ‘Go Away!’ as an answer.  Never. She didn’t give up on people especially if she saw something in them that they didn’t see in themselves.  That was just…how she was.  That was just how she loved.  Fiercely.  Devotedly. Doggedly.  Truly.  Deeply.  Madly. Simply…instantly.

She understood that there were things in his past that he didn’t want anyone to know about. He’d let things slip, told her them in unguarded moments of pure conversation.  Things about troubles he had with his Father…regrets he had with his Mother…the near constant haunting even now of Freiza and his time with the lizard…being cheated on by regrets and troubles in his life that his Pride had caused…dealing with personal demons in various ways that were never ever going to be healthy, hadn’t been healthy, had caused him physical damage that scarred his body forever.  She had confessed things to him as well when he couldn’t believe that she didn’t mind what he’d told her of.  She ran her hand over a cool, smooth surface…celebrity was brutal, popularity was a killer. She, in her younger days, had fallen in with people she should not have been around in any way.  People who had introduced her to booze…and drugs.  No, her past had not been perfect either. Not pristine, not anything of what she presented herself as now…Because she had learned…from all of that.  Still though, when days were bad, when days were so lonely she just couldn’t take the silence of her own life anymore, her eyes would wander to a bottle of Jameson and she’d think ‘Awww, that bottle of Jameson looks so lonely.  I could be his friend’ or she’d call up some of those bad people again, go out, hit a club, and end up remembering all over again why she avoided those people now. She sighed and her eyes surveyed her work thus far; he’d listened to her in absolute silence…his eyes staying focused on his feet.  He probably couldn’t believe what he was hearing from her…but he hadn’t judged her just as she hadn’t judged him.  And in that they had found safety with each other.  A rare judgement free zone just between the two of them that was…well, she didn’t know about him, but it was a hard thing for her to shake.  She didn’t want to shake it, didn’t want to lose it. It was nice to be in contact with someone, talk to someone that…she could be honest with…that…that was as alone as she was.  What was the saying, ‘Misery loves company?’  But she wasn’t miserable with him.  She didn’t know if that was true about his feelings towards her…Does he have feelings for me too?  She’d been scared of the question and the answer, but she couldn’t stop thinking about it.

They’d slept together four times now.  Namek had been an accident, pure and simple.  But the second time…the night she’d broken up with Yamcha...that was no accident.  Yes, one thing had led to another.  A near uncontrollable domino-effect of lust and excitement that they weren’t alone for a moment.  It had started out simply with just admitting that they wanted each other.  And letting each other have exactly that.  For a night, she had been his Bulma, he had called her his Queen.  For a night, he had been her Vegeta, she had called him her Handsome Prince.  For a night it was just the two of them and real life had stayed outside the door.  He had laid her down.  Rubbed his finger softly over her cheek, flushed rose pink with the want to be touched like she hadn’t been touched in so long, then his finger dragged down her body slowly, oh so slowly.  Gently rubbing her nipple to pert attention before it continued further down.  Her chest rose and fell with anticipation.  So long… since anyone had touched her like that.  She wanted more.  Needed more. Of him.  When his finger reached her navel, he looked into her eyes. Kami, his eyes.  Always dark and intense, but filled with something else, something she had waited so long to see in someone’s eyes when they looked at her. Yamcha had had it once…but it had since disappeared.  Then Vegeta had smiled.  She shattered inside.  He had such a wonderful smile, it melted her in an instant and she couldn’t help but hate everything horrible in his past for robbing everyone else of seeing this smile that he kept buried inside with all his pain and loneliness.  Her breathing quickened under that smile as his finger continued down, down, down.  Wandering slowly over her soft, succulent skin.  She had felt how hard he’d been for her against her hip and her hands started shaking.  She couldn’t believe herself, Bulma Briefs was literally trembling for a man, for Vegeta and she was trembling for all of him.  She never told anyone of her fantasies of him holding up and pressing her naked body against the wall of the Gravity Chamber with his naked body and filling her until she was screaming and he was gritting his teeth with pleasure with his precious gravity on, adding a kinky intensity to everything.

Her fingers traced gently of smooth surfaces, her eyes criticized every spot, and her ears listened to the sound of her footsteps.  Her legs had quivered as he slowly pushed them open, revealing her swollen pearl to him and the overwhelming wetness that resided inside of her for him.  He leaned down over her and dipped his head, his tongue slipping out to lick her pert nipple.  She swooned, turning her face away from him in her ecstasy…and the side of her face found the palm of his hand coming to cup her cheek before slipping up into her hair, stroking it so lovingly, so tenderly.  She nestled her face as best she could into his gentle palm…then she felt his fingertips at her bead.  She’d looked down…and met his eyes.  The gaze held for a moment before he slipped a finger between her soaked lips. A gasp escaped her, a moan.  His finger moved around until he got a good grip on her precious bead to ensure that she couldn’t wriggle free of the pleasure he was about to give her.  She’d gripped the edges of her desk for dear life…then his lips were against her ear and he whispered, I want you, I want all of you. Every part of her shattered and she’d panted back as she reached out and took his rock hard manhood into her eager grip, Take me, take all of me and don’t stop till I’m satisfied.  And he hadn’t stopped.  He taken her every which way he wanted to, needed to take her.  She’d returned the favor and gave to him all the want and need she had to give him.  Both keeping the loneliness at bay.  Her hand worked and stroked him as his finger moved with a magical touch.  Sweat broke out on her hairline when he retracted his finger and finally braced his body against hers like a lion freezing it’s prey to the spot.  He took a moment to look over her body before lifting her legs to either side of his head, the back of her thighs against his hard, chiseled chest.  She could tell his cock had to be throbbing as it bounced like an animal thrashing against an invisible leash in his craving for her touch again.  She kept still and quiet except for her irrepressibly heavy breathing in anticipation of what they were about to allow themselves to have.  Her core ached and moistened beyond what she ever thought possible when she saw his precum slip from his tip and she imagined what it must look like dripping onto the surface of her desk.  He took the tip of his member in hand as he kept his eyes on hers. Then he stroked himself against her swollen, sensitive clit and grinned at the pleasure it brought her.  She moaned and gasped and couldn’t contain herself anymore.  Didn’t want to contain herself anymore.  She wanted him.  Now. She bit her lip and he took that as his permission.  After a moment more, he slipped into her.  To her surprise, he gasped at the feel of her surrounding his hardness, engulfing him with her warmth, welcoming his cock into her tight, willing pussy; he let out a moan that nearly made her cum by the sound of it alone. She’d writhed.  Her knuckles burning white as she moaned too, Uhnnn.  She was throbbing for him as if her whole body was her heartbeat.  Then he’d said it, and brought tears of joy to her bright, brilliant sapphire eyes, Let me see your beautiful face.  He’d shattered her heart and body in a way she never thought possible.  She kept her eyes on his as he thrusted into her over and over.  Taking her, taking them into a sanctuary of lust, want, and need that kept the hells of their pasts away for a single thankful night of uninterrupted, unfettered bliss.  Sweat slicked her desk as he’d fucked her desperately.  Finally she cried out in intense pleasure.  Cried out his name as she came hard on his cock and seconds later he’d followed her as he came inside her with such power she felt like she’d shatter.  Yes, they had been blessed with a first intentional night of bliss that had left her with a cracked desk the next morning.

She smiled to herself as she continued her walkthrough.  She hadn’t cared, the desk was easily replaced, but her need for him…the ember had been fanned into an inferno she couldn’t keep herself from stepping into the middle of.  She bathed in the burning, searing flames…But…

Her eyes cast down to the floor and watched her feet move over it’s polished surface.

He seemed to pull away from her.  She was left to burn, somehow alone again.  He retreated from her attentions to him, her affections for him.  She told herself to not let it get her down.  Told herself that how shitty his life had been only made it more impossible for him to accept that someone would love him and want him to stay with her, to be with her at all.  He had been thrown away by his Father to the evil devices of Freiza then cheated by Freiza of the happy life he’d thought he had with his family and he’d missed saying goodbye to his Mother…of course, he’d think no one could ever see anything good in a total asshole like him.

But she did.

She saw it in his eyes.  Felt it in his touch.  Heard it in his voice.  Let me see your beautiful face.  Even now, it brought tears to her eyes.  She knew she was pretty (drop dead, fucking gorgeous actually), but no one had ever told her that like that before.  He’d told her good night and sweet dreams that night…and that had been the last time he’d said it.

For a few days further did they talk like a couple.  He’d called her babe and she felt her cheeks flushed with giddy, girlish excitement.  They talked of constellations.  He regaled her with his thrill for the hunt and she couldn’t help but hang on his every word as he told her a story about how he’d hunted these creatures that looked pretty close to human but could transform part of their bodies into that of an animal’s in order to fight their enemies.  He’d been so animated that she grinned like an idiot to hear him talk so.  Then he’d trained himself ragged and she’d admired him for every moment of it.  It was so impressive and endearing the way he devoted his time and dedication to his training, the one thing in his life he truly held dear.

They had arranged to meet again.  In her bedroom.  In bed. In actual bed together.  She’d been so excited.  Practically skipped around all day just waiting for the moment where they could sneak away to be together again.  She thought of how she wanted him to lick and suck her nipples again. How she wanted to claw his flesh this time.  How she wanted to nip and bite him.  How she wanted him to nip and bite her. But…

Like some sick and evil joke from his past, Freiza should up in his thoughts again.  Haunted him again.  He rededicated himself to his training.  Threw himself into his legacy. And despite his promises for their second night together, reality came crashing in.  The pain of not attaining his legacy was so ingrained in every fiber of his being…she cried with him.  Felt with him.  She so desperately wanted to succeed with her own legacy, but every time an opportunity arose to reach out and grab it, it always slipped through her fingers and back into mocking, black depths.  Condemning depths.  Just like him.  Every opportunity he got with his legacy, every encounter seemed always too short. Always so fleeting.  And every time he reached to grasp it harder, to keep the chance with him longer, the ghost of his past, Freiza’s ghost came back to condemn him and take it all away from him.  To deny him what he worked for the hardest, the most, what his heart was truly dedicated to.

She’d watched from a monitor and tried to give him her help.  Tried to convince him that she was there with him.  By his side through all the torture he was going through.  She tried to bring up his hunting stories again, but it didn’t seem to pull him from his black depths.  She tried changing the subject to other stories, but that didn’t draw him away from Freiza’s dark either.  Finally, she let him in on her loneliness, her pain, to let him know that she knew what the darkness was like and how black it was and how biting the mocking was.  That, that had touched him.  She told him what loneliness was for her…and he knew the feeling.  She told him that she wished he didn’t know that feeling…She told him how hating that feeling always made her really needy in relationships. She confessed how she usually allowed it to turn her into a door mat because she was so desperate for them to never leave her.  Bulma Briefs confessed that she allowed herself to stay in bad relationships because she just didn’t want to ever be alone again.  But…

But she eventually did get a spine, she was Bulma Fucking Briefs after all, and the relationship was nixed…and she’d be alone again.  Alone with that hated numbing feeling.  It spread through her chest to her arms to her fingertips like armor she never wanted and the worst part was that…anymore…she was getting used to feeling that numb.  Like it was how she was supposed to feel…Like it was how she was meant to feel.

He confessed that he felt that way all the time.

They sat there in silence.

Until he left for his own bed and she returned to hers, wishing she could hold him in her arms, stroke his hair, and let her heartbeat lull him to a restful sleep that Freiza’s taunts denied him.  The restful sleep she knew attaining his legacy would grant him forever, an eternal lullaby carried in his warrior’s heart.

He’d surprised her by telling her that he wanted to try that second night together again.  That he wanted to be hard for her again…Her heart had raced with all the ideas.  They could have steamed up the windows of the Gravity Chamber.  Or they could have slipped into a side room and make the door rattle. She’d hurried through her work day with a ridiculous grin on her face.

Instead she had decided on her room.  Her bed again.  She got herself ready for him.  Choosing black satin bra and panties.  Thought of how she wanted his swollen cock.  She got wet just picturing herself wrapping her fingers around his yummy shaft. Imagining his moan at her touch. She thought of how she’d look into his eyes the way he had, grin at him the way he had.  Would he give his body over to her?  Would he give his mind over to her?  Would his hard cock throb in her hand?  She wished it would, wanted to feel it.  Her clit had begun throbbing with all her dirty, needy, wanting thoughts. She needed him to satisfy her. She needed to satisfy him.  The hunger had been insatiable.  She wanted her tongue to lick up his delicious shaft as she’d massage his tip with achingly gentle caresses.  She wanted his beautiful cock to weep for her again so she could kiss the precum from it.  So she could make them both feel better.  But…

He didn’t show up. He’d left her aching for him…while he battled Freiza and his demons again.

Her heart tightened in sadness at the thought of how empty she had felt when he’d pushed her away afterward.  Letting harsh and cruel reality back into their lives.  Going back to being a complete and total asshole that seemed to take pleasure in cutting her down each time he cut her out.  All she wanted to do was talk the way they used to again at least.  For him to tell her good night again, call her his Queen, his Lady again.  But…

She had been determined to not be scared off so easily.  To stick it out with him.  Tough it out with him.  She was ok with how he’d thrown himself into his deepest, darkest depths because she had done that too when she pretended to bury herself in work and was really just wallowing in her own pain because it felt safer and more familiar there.  Glanced at the bottle of Jameson she hid in her lab like a hotline to an old friend that she knew always had the right words to make her feel better.  She kept wishing him good night and receiving nothing in return.  Kept dreaming of lying on top of his naked body and kissing him in the sanctuary of their bliss while he gently held her naked body against his.  And he kept training to the bone, exhausted all the time. Just eating, training, and sleeping. Every encounter felt like she was pulling teeth to get even a single word from him.  Every encounter leaving her feeling more and more alone.  More and more like he was distancing himself from her despite her telling him over and over that he didn’t have to, that he shouldn’t.  She tried calling him Prince of All Saiyans again, harkening back to their beginning. But got nothing back.  His words came less and less.  His contact with her less and less.  In desperation to hold on to what they had had, she had masturbated while thinking of him…but it had been an empty pleasure, a respite that only reminded her of how much she missed him.  The last time they’d talked had been a bad day for him.  She’d wished him rest…and that was it.  He woke, ate, trained to the bone, and slept.  Pushing her away entirely.  Leaving her to that hateful, numbing loneliness entirely.

So she’d called friends she’d been better off avoiding.  Went out to hide back in the depths of her past.

And he’d found her there.

She smiled to herself.

And they’d had their second night together in her bed.  And a third day and night.  And this morning—Ahh, she’d loved it all until her past came barging in to shatter their bliss and it’d came scary close to breaking her heart.  Her time with Vegeta was so precious and it had nearly been tainted all over again, had nearly been striped of her all over again.  She wasn’t going to let that happen.  She was willing to go back into hell with Yamcha to keep Vegeta safe…and then her Dad had confessed his and Vegeta’s secret, that Vegeta had asked permission to be with her.  That the elusive Saiyan Prince had told her Dad that he wanted to continue to be with her, intended more nights together in her bed…more sanctuary. A chance for freedom from the loneliness to happen for both of them.  And she knew it!  She just had to finish this project for him!  She had to give him this present! As soon as she possibly could to show him what he meant to her.

That’s why everything had to prefect for him.  Because of what she believed he deserved, what she believed they both deserved.  She wanted to give him that, show him it.  She wanted to treat him they way he deserved to be treated but wouldn’t allow himself to be because of his past and his demons.  Because of Freiza.  Because of his own familiarity with loneliness.

*                      *                      *

The whole room glowed an unholy red and he levitated in it’s heavy air.  He had forgone drones.  Refusing to take them to her and refusing to ask her Father for repairs, he couldn’t bare to humiliate himself infront of the man if any questions about his ended relationship with her came up, Vegeta doubted that they wouldn’t. So he opted to just endure with the lesser backup drones and what few of her experimental prototypes he could find without going near her and her constant insistence to stay in her personal lab.  It still stung to think of her, a numbing feeling hollowed his chest and tingled his shoulders.  It sent jitters into his elbow and threading it’s way into the joints of his fingers. He clenched his fists and worked harder. Throwing himself into every hit, every punch, every dodge, every dive, every single possible movement he could. And his mind strayed…he could just up and leave.  It wouldn’t be the first time.  He would come back and fight the Androids to show them all how he was the true inheritor of the Super Saiyan legend then he’d fight that idiot Kakkarot to show them all the power of that legacy when wielded by a true royal Saiyan.  He could steal her dragon radar and collect all the dragon balls of this world and get his wish for immortality before going out into the universe to conquer it.  Just like he planned all along while he was still enslaved under Freiza’s foot.  But…

Could he handle never seeing her again?

Could he handle never sensing her presence near him ever again?

Could he handle never…

Could he handle…

Could he…

Could…

The numbing filled him and knotted his stomach torturously.

Could he handle never hearing from her ever again?

Could he handle only ever hearing ‘My Vegeta’ from a soulless whore that didn’t mean it except in fear or shameless powermongering and not from the Woman that had actually genuinely meant it for probably the first time in his pathetic, lonely life?

My Prince.

Her words haunted him. Did she hope they would?

His words haunted him. He had been so…so fucking poetic with her.  He couldn’t believe himself; he could, but he couldn’t.  He’d been…lovesick…for her.  I can’t get you out of my head.  The thought of your tender soul dancing in a dream of what could be.  These thoughts put a smile on my face and makes the day slide on by with ease.  Good night my dear Bulma.  Ack, it disgusted him to think of now.  Utterly repulsed him to think he had said such things to her.  But…her response…I can’t wait to done with work and hear from you.  I dream of what might possibly be too.  I light up with the thoughts.  Good night, my sweet Prince.  Yes, utterly and completely repulsed.  By himself. By her.

Tch, to think such a creature could ever possible catch his eye.  It was ridiculous to think that he would ever attach himself to such a, a, a disgusting, repulsive human!  What a despicable thought.  Suddenly the harsh, cruel laughter erupted from his mouth.  Rumbled through his chest as it echoed off the humming walls.  Was she really so stupid to think that he, the Prince of All Saiyans, would ever truly lower, and it really would be lowering, himself to soil himself with anything even remotely like her?!

“Hahaha!”

Tears came to his eyes as he laughed and laughed at her behind her back.  Laughed at her in the silence.  What an idiot!  He was an asshole!  And she’d learn that!  She’d learn that well!  He’d make sure of it!  He’d push and shove and reject her in every way he could possibly think off.  He’d run the nagging, caring harpy off until she was in tears on her knees before him and then he’d kick her away from him for good.  And he would destroy those approaching tin cans.  And he would destroy Kakkarot.  And he would obliterate her world and laugh at her still as it incinerated with her on it—

He gasped.  Eyes wide with terror as he envisioned it.  The ground ripping apart around her in a fiery inferno.  Rocks shattering as a ball of fire engulfed everything beneath her.  The ground shaking, forcing her to her knees.  Tears and dirt smearing her once beautiful face with her fear and helplessness.  She’d be alone.  She’d die all alone.  Rocks continuing to burst apart around her as the fireball expanded.  Spraying her with shards that would cut her once soft, succulent skin.  Fuck, he gasped.  She’d scream, she’d scream as the ground finally gave way beneath her and the searing heat would engulf her from the bottom up.  She’d look to the sky, to him and scream as fire quickly turned her into living ash…Ash!...and then she’d be gone.  With her world…Destroyed…like his world…

Was that the win that he truly wanted?  Didn’t he want her love?  Didn’t he want her anymore?  Was this all some sick game that Freiza had taught him to play not so long ago?  Was he still working as Freiza’s agent even the lizard was dead to him?  Was he still some sick asshole using her affections for him like a toy?

“Shut down!”  He shouted and the drones obeyed.  Falling to the ground with loud, thudding clatters.

“Power down!” He shouted again.  Vegeta lowered to the tiled floor as the Gravity Room powered down.

The moment his botted feet touched down, he lowered his arms, and just stared at the floor.

He could sense her right outside the door.  He hadn’t realized she’d been waiting for him to come out.  How long had she been waiting for him?  He closed his eyes, trying to shut her out again and deny her the sight of him, the sound of his voice, his sweet words and feelings towards her.  But…when he closed his eyes, all he saw was his own horrible vision of what he’d do to her, how he’d destroy her in order to stay the man he was familiar with rather than be the man she insisted he was.

He clenched his fists. Then looked over at the Gravity Room door.  Which man did Vegeta really want to be?

*                      *                      *

She sat on the grass outside and waited…and waited…and waited.  She’d been there for eight hours.  Waiting for him to surface.  And she’d be there for another eight if that was what it was going take.  He was going to cling to being the cowardly asshole then so be it.  He was going to find out what a stubborn ass, motherfucking bitch Bulma Briefs was.  He hadn’t met that side of her yet, but he’d get the introduction he was apparently itching for soon enough.  She’d go toe to motherfucking toe with him on everything if that was the fight he was looking for, the fight he wanted.  Okay, okay, so that was what he was used to. Fighting.  For everything.  Okay, she’d Kami damn well would fight.  She’d fight him.  She’d fight herself.  She’d fight his past.  She’d fight her past.  Hell, she’d fight the whole fucking planet.  Fight.  Fight. Fight.  Fine.  He’d meet her motherfucking temper soon enough.  Especially if he didn’t show up soon.  There was a reason she was referred to as a Boss Bitch because she could be a massive Bitch like a Boss.  Motherfucking, bring it, Asshole!

She glanced at the things her Mom had brought her to eat and drink as she’d waited.  An empty bottle of water, a plate of crumbs, another plate of syrupy crumbs, an empty stained mug of coffee, a apple core, a banana peel.  Then she turned her eyes to the door and felt what excited happiness she had had this morning when she’d finally left her personal lab with her finished project encapsulated for him turn that much more into a bitter anger that was steadily getting more and more ready to rip the fucking door of it’s hinges and yell at him. Hey, Asshole, PAY ATTENTION TO ME!

Suddenly the room began to power down.  She started. Holy shit!  Had he heard her thoughts?  Was he somehow attuned to her personal prayers?  Was he really coming out at last?  She checked the time on her watch…and rolled her eyes.  Oh, of course, it was nearly dinner time.  His usual time to come out of the Gravity Room for a quick shower before going down to the dining room and stuffing his face full of her Mom’s Saiyan appetite-sized cooking before going back to his room and going to bed.  She got to her feet anyway though and waited again, this time for the door to open.

After a few moments, silence filled the air.  Kami, she hated silence.  But the weird thing was was that it also made her excited.  More excited to see him.  She waited with her eyes zeroed in on that door and the longer it took for him to come out, the more she anticipated hanging on his every word again…the more she anticipated seeing him and meeting those dark eyes that told her so much of himself…She waited…for him…Began wringing her hands…for him…

The door opened.

Despite herself, a smile burst on her face.  She waited for him.  Wrung her hands for him.

He stepped out.

Her heart fluttered, her smile bright and beaming and reaching deep into her eyes as she looked at him…then her smile slowly dimmed.  The eyes that met hers were cold.  The man that stood in front of her was clearly not a Vegeta she had ever met before. Every part of him was cold…towards her. He wasn’t glaring at her, his stare was just…freezing.  So that was it, he was going to freeze her out.

Bulma felt her spinal column.  But this time, she wasn’t going to leave.  No, she said toe to motherfucking toe and toe to motherfucking toe it was going to be.

With glee she wasn’t sure she should have for him anymore, she charged up to him and threw her arms around his neck in a massive hug that chilled her when she felt nothing in return. But…he was a fighter.  And so was she.  Toe to motherfucking toe.

“Vegeta,” she put her bright, beaming smile into her voice, sounding almost as obnoxiously bubbly as her Mother, “I thought you were going to be in there forever.”

Still nothing in return.  Still freezing.  Still cold.

Reluctantly but soberly, she pulled back from him and up close, looked him in the eye.  If he was going to freeze her out, then the Asshole was going to have to do it like a man and not a coward in fear of something better for himself than his past.

“Did you have a bad day training?”  She put her concern on her face, but she had to admit to herself that it was less concern for him and more for the fool she was making of herself in front of him. In a way, this close, it was almost like she could hear him laughing at her even though he was still giving her nothing in return except for a freezing cold stare.  “Oh,” she slipped a piece of teal hair behind her ear and finally stepped away from him.  Okay, now or never, she was literally toe to toe with him.  Bulma slipped her hands behind her back and leveled him with her most coquettish pose and behavior…and smile.  “Well,” she bit her lip, she knew he had liked it when she did that before, “I think I have something that’ll brighten your day.”  She sang at him.  “I’ve been working on it all yesterday and last night.”

Something shifted in his eyes.  Something…cracked?

“All day and night?” He repeated.  His voice wasn’t exactly warm.  More…wary.

“Yeah.”

He was silent. But…she had seen something give and she was going to push her luck on it.

“It was something I started for you a long time ago and when I find out that you had…with my Dad…well, I just knew I had to finish it for you.  I knew that in order to do that I couldn’t stay with you the other day, I had to go straight to work on it and, well, not stop.  And I haven’t until this morning.”

“Morning?”  He repeated.  Still not exactly warm.  Wary…but warmer.

She saw another crack?  “Yeah,” she nodded giddily.  Like she said, she was a fighter too.  “But…,” she pushed harder with her sing-song voice and her reset his freeze, “you can’t take a shower.  Just go and back an overnight bag.”

“Overnight bag?”

“Kami, Vegeta,” her temper flared a bit in exasperation, “Just go up to your room, get a bag, fill with some clothes, workout ones if you’d like, and meet me right. Back.  Here.”  Ending on a playful note.

He stared at her hard, measuring her up.  She saw his mind working behind those cold eyes then…

“Why?”  His voice cold and edged.

“Because it’s a surprise.”  She smiled.

He continued to eye her…

…and eye her…

…and her smiled dimmed…

…and finally faded. Replaced by…hope.

Vegeta looked away, grumpy and dismissive.  “Fine, I will get a bag, but I will shower first.”

“No,” she blurted, throwing her hands up at him.  His attention snapped back to her, “You can’t, it’ll ruin the surprise.”  She could see the mistrust in his eyes.  A far cry from their shower yesterday morning. How had they lost so much together so fast?  “Please, Vegeta, pretty please don’t shower.  Just pack a bag and meet me right here.  Please.” He hated when she begged…at least, he used to hate it when she begged.

“I need to know where we are going if I need to pack.  Where are we going?”

“It’s.  A.  Surprise.” A whisper of her smile ghosted at the corners of her lips.

He eyed her again…she refused to dim again under his cold, hardened gaze.

“Fine,” he grunted, looking away again.

“Vegeta,” she flung herself at him with glee.  Her lips puckered to kiss his cheek—he pulled immediately out of her arms, took a few steps, and took flight, headed straight for his balcony.

She staggered forward in the absence of his expected body, eyes opening to harsh, cold reality. Her still raised arms lowered as she watched him fly away from her, the pucker left her lips.

Okay, so that stung, Asshole.

*                      *                      *

He came in for a landing on his balcony like a demon but landed softly.  He stomped into his room.  What the Hell was he doing?!  Why was he giving into this?!  Fucking why?!!

I’ve been working on it all yesterday and last night.

Tch.

I knew that in order to do that I couldn’t stay with you the other day, I had to go straight to work on it and, well, not stop. And I haven’t until this morning.

Oh shut the fuck up!

He stormed into the ridiculously massive walk-in closet and retrieved his duffel bag.  He flung it on his bed and stormed over to his dresser…then stopped…No, he wasn’t going to wear these Earth clothes.  He wasn’t going to choose any of these stupid human garments she’d bought for him.  He said never again, he meant never again.  Vegeta reached into the drawer where he kept all of the Saiyan uniforms he had left and pulled out a dark navy blue one.  Like the one he first came to this stupid compound in with those stupid Namekians.  He tossed it into the bag on his bed.  He shifted around for a spare pair of gloves and boots…then a spare set of the armor he liked to pair with that suit.  He arranged them better in his bag before taking a moment to stare down at basically the exact same outfit he had worn when he first came to live at Capsule Corp. So that was it, he was back to the beginning.  Back to the man he was…before her.

Vegeta gritted his teeth bitterly at the sight.  He yanked the zipper shut.  Flung the bag over his shoulder.  And flew back to where that stupid Woman still stood on the lawn.  He landed in front of her.  Seething.

“Get this the Hell over with, Woman!”  He snapped.

Bulma visibly flinched at his rage and it only made him angrier.  He hadn’t intended to scare her, but now that he had, it pissed him off that he did that to her.  It pissed him off that there was still a part of her that was scared of him. Everything about her pissed him off. He gritted his teeth harder.  She took a few steps back before turning away from him as she retrieved her little case of personal capsules from her pocket. He tried to convince himself that it had all been merely to use one of her capsules safely and not a retreat from him personally, but he doubted himself, she had flinched after all.  She wouldn’t have done that if she was sure that he wouldn’t hurt her.  But…she was still carrying out her surprise, apparently travelling alone with him to her secret destination, so maybe it hadn’t been personal—Why the fuck do I care?!  She’s useless to me.  Meaningless. She’s pathetic.  Disgusting.  Repulsive…Inferior.

She clicked the capsule and tossed it.  After the pop and puff of smoke, her personal helicopter stood there waiting for them. She looked back at him…and winked. Tch, he looked away, but followed her as she walked over to the two-person craft.  She climbed into the pilot’s seat and he flung his bag in the small back before settling into the passenger seat.  The rotors started up.

“Why could I simply not fly there?”  He grumbled.

“It’s.  A.  Surprise.” She repeated.

“Tch,” he glared out the window beside him as she guided the craft to rise into the air.

*                      *                      *

Desert, dusty red rock, passed beneath them.  He knew this place.  He knew this area.  It was one of his favorite places to train whenever the Gravity Room was damaged and would take extended time to repair.  It reminded him of Vegetasei.  It reminded him of home.

Vegeta side-eyed her. What was she up to?  What further humiliation did this Woman have in store for him?  Was she now going to rob him of one of the few sanctuaries he had on the Gods forsaken planet?!  He felt his breathing shallow with his anger at her.  How dare she?!  How dare she with any of this!  His attention snapped even more to the view out the window.  He crossed his arms over his chest.  This was ridiculous.  Why was he even here!  Why…why any of this?!...Was he so desperate for companionship that he’d even accept someone whose only life’s mission was to humiliate him at every turn and make him realize how…alone he was?  Am I really so lonely?  So lonely that I would accept being with someone that would treat me like dirt rather than be alone anymore?  Really? Gods, what is wrong with me?  When did I become…so exiled within myself—

The feel of the craft shifted and sucked him out of his thoughts.  They were landing.

He glanced over at her.  She was biting her lip.  But not in the way that made her look so damn sexy to him, that made him want to bit that lip of hers himself as he took her over and over and—Stop that!  He tore his mind away from…from dreams he’d once had and refocused on what he was seeing. She was nervous.  About what?

The craft landed gently and he mused to himself how she had a knack for flying fast with soft landings…like him.  Yet another musing he had to shove away, bury deep down inside him.  She waited until the rotors had stilled; sitting there nervously biting her lip with her hand constantly moving just enough for her fingertips to touch her capsule case.  His eyes dipped down to the pocket she kept it in.

“What is in there?” He asked, wondering again.

She looked over at him and gave him a weak smile, a nervous smile.  “You’ll see.”  She said, but even to her ears it came out as more of a timid question.

He frowned at her. What had she to so afraid of? What was there to be nervous about? Was she second guessing whatever plan she had in store for him?  Was she afraid that he’d destroy her for her…treachery?  He looked away again.  There was a time he hoped that she didn’t fear him anymore, he guessed that time was gone…had he wanted her to fear him?  Wasn’t it easier for him if she feared him again?  Wasn’t it safer for him if she did?

The rotors stopped. She moved and opened her door. Vegeta followed suit.  Bulma climbed out and Vegeta reached over, grabbed his bag, and climbed out as well.  She reached back into the helicopter and pressed the large Capsule Corp logo button. With a loud pop and a cloud of yellow smoke, the helicopter disappeared back into it’s large capsule.  Bulma picked it up.  She began walking away from their landing spot with him a few steps behind her.  Then she stopped and pulled out her capsule case.  She popped the large capsule back in…then took a deep, bracing breath…and took out a different large capsule.

She stood stock still, staring down at the capsule in her hand…Vegeta came up beside her.  He looked down at what seemed to be making her more nervous by the second.  He didn’t see what was so innocuous about the capsule in her hand.  It looked like any other of the many capsules he was already familiar with due to both his time around the Z fighters, Earth, and her family and their company, except for the fact that it bore a large V on it’s label rather than a number.  Bulma took another deep breath then clicked the capsule’s button and lobbed the thing as far as she could.  Just as Vegeta was admiring the distance she had got, the capsule popped and the largest puff of yellow smoke filled his vision.  As it cleared, he wasn’t entirely sure he was actually seeing what he thought he was seeing.  When it cleared, Prince Vegeta couldn’t believe his eyes.

The white, domed building in front of him was like a ghost…from his past.  He recognized the architecture immediately.  He could never forget it.  Would never ever allow himself to forget it.

“It’s, it’s, it’s Saiyan,” he stammered in shock.

What he was staring at was a Saiyan domicile.

“Uh-huh.”  She chirped beside him.

He was amazed and it truly was a fine residence.  Three times the diameter of the one concealed in one of her other large capsules.  More than enough room for a single person.  In fact, a ridiculous amount of room for a single person…but not if it were exactly what he remembered it being.  His eyes ran over the white exterior and the almost jewel-like accents of round and oval glass windows bulging out of the building in decorative yet completely unornate points.  Sapphire blue against bright white.  Gorgeous.  In all his life he would never forget that beauty…it was the same color as her eyes. He glanced over at her.

“You made this in one day and night?  But, but how?”

“Oh no, not one day and night, that’s how long it took to do the finishing touches.  I’ve been building this since you first came to live with me.”

Vegeta’s mind reeled. “That’s been, that’s been…”

She nodded at him emphatically, “Hm-mm.”  She beamed with pride.

“Why,” he breathed.

“Well…everyone deserves a home.  And you didn’t seem all that happy to have to live with us and you did save me on Namek so…well…your world, your home had been destroyed by Freiza, the least I could do was try and give you a piece of Vegetasei back.  Even if it’s only a guess at a copy of the Royal Chambers.”

Vegeta’s stunned eyes returned to the view of the life that had been stripped of him.  Gods, how did she do it?

He must have said his thought out loud because she answered him, “I believe in galactic commerce.”

“What?”

“I like to talk to traders in space and I started looking for ones who used to do business with the Saiyans, specifically ones that had actually been to Vegetasei.  It took awhile, but I did find some that did and had actually been on good terms with your Dad enough that they remembered things about the Royal Chambers.  I put everything they knew into making this.  I, I hope they’re right.”

He nodded without looking at her.  “The exterior is correct although this would be nearly at the top of the palace in order to afford the King a good view of his kingdom.”

“Well, I couldn’t build a whole palace, but that’s why I made it encapsulated, so you could take it say…,” her eyes searched the landscape and she found a particular cliff that overlooked everything as far as she could tell, “there,” she pointed at it, “and get the same kind of view perhaps.  I really don’t know, but I wanted you to be able to put it wherever you felt comfortable with it being, wherever you thought felt the most like home. Even if it’s not on Earth.”

He looked over at her, she’d spoken that last part with such a sad voice that he couldn’t help but look at her.  She was staring at the ground ahead of her with distant, mournful eyes…Oh my Gods, she thinks, she thinks…  Before he could say anything, she snapped herself out of whatever she had been thinking and soldiered on.

“Wanna see inside?” She forced perkiness into her voice as she turned what she obviously thought was a bright smile at him, but he could see that it was false.  She was covering up.

“Yes,” he nodded.

“Right this way then,” she chirped, not unlike her Mother.

Bulma walked them over to the golden double door.  It was tall and ornately carved with depictions of nautilus shells and triangles and thick swirling ‘vines’ cast in gold.  Polished to gleam far brighter and shinier than the darker gold of the door underneath it.  The flash of memory was potent and momentarily disorienting; My Father’s throne room door, his breathing hitched in his chest.  It was like walking back in time.  Was it possible that the Woman had built a time machine?  Bulma slipped her fingers over one of the smaller upside down nautilus shells beneath the large ones and pulled.  Despite it’s opulent look of weight, it swung open easily at her yank, gliding open in utter silence.  She stepped aside and gestured with her free hand for Vegeta to enter.  He gulped, it was terrifying to be staring the ‘what might have been’ of his past in the face but he would be damned if he let it pass him by.

His boots immediately tapped loudly on the polished red marble floors…and it reminded him of home. He closed his eyes and relished in the sound, he took more steps and listened to the echoes.  A smile touched Vegeta’s lips.  It was exactly how he remembered footsteps sounding in the palace when he was a boy. It was as though…time had stood still. He opened his eyes again, it hadn’t, and he saw that the short entryway led into a far greater room, a living area of sorts and not his Father’s massive throne room.  But still, for a moment, in his mind’s eye, Vegeta Breigh had been home.

His feet carried him forward into the living area.  It was expansive, but no throne room.  However, she had copied the design of the throne on a smaller scale for one of the chairs in the sitting area portion of the living space.  Automatically anointing it as his chair.  He marveled at her attention to detail, at the detail she had been given to pay attention to.  His Pride as a Royal Saiyan filled his chest as he realized how much of an impression the Saiyan Royal Throne had left on visitors even after all this time.  A powerfully stout smooth stone base the same the building was made of and design to imply the might of an unmovable mountain. Carved out of the middle was the spot for a large padded seat designed like the Captain’s Chair aboard one of their ships, but colored the bright red of the rocky desert that was their planet. Behind the headrest, seeming to emanate from the ‘shoulders’ of the command chair, radiate two sharps stone outcroppings that formed a wide ‘V’ with a bright red flame of polished marble imbedded in each arm of the ‘V’.  ‘V’, he mused, for Vegeta…his Father’s name…his name.  And three wedges of gold each for a handrest on the arms of the stone base.  Yes, exactly as he remembered.

He looked down at his feet and the polished slabs of pale lilac marble with long rugs of bright red trimmed in borders of gold.  The walls drapped in long spans of silken fabric that began at the top in black before ombre-ing down into the same pale lilac color as the stone of the floor, effectively tricking the eye into thinking the room was far more expansive than it actually was.  He smirked, even in decorating both of his parents were tactical geniuses, not even letting the small, fine details slip.  Swags of white fabric covered the tops of the black fabric all around the room blending into the white stone of the ceiling and expanding the room’s impression even more.  Pillars of white stone held everything up.  All of it…so much what he remembered.  Right down to the furniture.  All white wood like the sparsely growing trees of his homeworld. Thin and orderly in design, simple, unfluted, no carvings of ornamentation of any kind, just a simple round band at the tops and bottoms of legs and bases with simply planed square, rectangular, or round tops; to prove the Saiyans were not barbarians but cultured peoples.  Thin and orderly, simple, yes, but it, if it were truly of his homeworld, could survive all but the most powerful hits from a Saiyan.  Thin and orderly and simple and durable beyond anything else in the universe.

A hot, desert breeze blew through the room from an open ‘balcony’ area and rustled the fabric to reveal some of the spans to be hiding tall and intricate, beautiful stained glass windows that casted undulating rainbows over the white, stone floor from the sunlight behind.  Vegeta closed his eyes and inhaled deeply…his brows furrowed; it may all look like home, but it did not smell like home.  He opened his eyes and looked to his left…then right.  She wasn’t there.  He turned around.  There she was, arms behind her back, sheepish in demeanor and biting her lip in anxious patience that she only ever showed her Father when awaiting his approval of some new thing she’d invented or scientific theory she’d come up with. Right now, she was awaiting his approval.

“Why?”  He asked, his brows still furrowed from the smell.

That wasn’t what she had wanted to hear, “Wha-, Fre-Freiza destroyed—”

“You already said that.  I’m asking why give this to me now.”

Her shoulders fell in an almost heartbreaking way.  This was not going at all as she had planned, that was clear for him to see. Her beautiful, sapphire eyes lowered to the floor at her feet, crestfallen, as she answered, “You, you…you made me feel special when I found out that you asked my Dad permission to date me, to, to…to be with me.  No one’s ever done that for me.  No one ever cared to before.  It…it…it made me feel like a lady.”  Her voice died in a chocked whisper.

Vegeta eyed her. While he had tried to kill his pain in the Gravity Room, she had been working herself hard to finish a present for him that he had not even known existed.  A present…from the heart…her heart…for him.  Now given…She, she had slaved herself for no reason to give him a piece of his home, to make memories just a bit more tangible.  Just that much more tactile to hold on to.

Suddenly, he couldn’t deny that there was something else he wanted to hold on to.  And he approached her.  She looked up at his footsteps.  Her eyes slightly reddened from the threat of tears that she was quickly trying suppress.  He reached out a glove hand.  Caressing the side of a gloved finger under her delicate little chin as he surveyed her face, her beautiful face…then he leaned in and kissed her.  Simply.  And full of heart.  She sighed into him and he relished in how her soft lips were as pillowy and warm as he remembered.  He reached out and wrapped his arms around her, drawing her in as close to him as she could get.  He felt her arms wrap around him.  Yes, a more tangible piece of home to hold on to.

She broke their kiss far sooner than he wanted.

“So you like it,” she breathed.  

“Woman, I will show you how pleased I am with your work.”

A thrill shivered through her.  He felt it and leaned in for a hungry kiss.  He wanted to lift her tiny, little body up, pin her against the nearest wall with his body, and finish what he had promised he wanted to do to her before her pathetic excuse for an ex barged in on them.  His mind raced with the anticipation of her screaming his name again. Her moans.  Her whimpering appeals to her deity as he relentlessly thrusting into her womanhood until she came over and over again and he filled her with—his lips ran into her finger.  When the Hell had she lifted a finger in front of her face?!

He scowled at her, but she smiled at him…that only deepened his scowl.

“Are you going to deny me again, Woman?”

“I told you that the first time was because if I had touched you then, I would have wanted you to fuck me raw in the shower and on the floor and in my bed and we would have never left my Kami damn room for anything and that wouldn’t have been good because I wanted to finish this for you.  This time, it’s because the surprise isn’t done yet.”

“Not done yet?” What else could there be?

“Oh-ho-ho, did you forget that I asked you not to shower?”  The glint in her eye was mischievous and all too familiar to him.

He fought hard to keep his body from betraying him, but he felt his cock twitch and knew it was a losing battle as she took his hands in hers.  She began to step backward towards the door of a side chamber while biting her lip in that enticing way that drove him wild.  His cock twitched again.  He lost the battle willingly, licking his own lips as he followed her lead.

“How about I draw you a bath?”  She purred and he felt the sound vibrate alluringly through her body.

“Gods, yes, Woman.” He breathed, his cock hard within the restraining confines of his suit and his mind already conjuring the sounds of her vulgar moans over the rhythmic sloshing of water.

*                      *                      *

When she had turned from him to open the door, he’d nearly charged her.  But he’d restrained himself and they made it inside.  And again, her attention to detail had him astonished.  The massive tub that took up almost all of the middle of the room was carved as simply as the columns of the furniture legs, but out of the same stone as the walls rather than pale wood.  A faucet of gold and designed to look like the vines on the front door capped the far end of the oval-shaped tub.  In a large niche to one side of the room, cordoned off by a wall and door of clear glass, was the shower.  Again an ornate vine-like gold showerhead hung down from the ceiling to rain water on them if they so choose.  All over white stone.  It was beautiful, but not quite as he remembered.  This was ornate, yes, but as ornate as the stuff he remembered his own bathing chambers being.  He guessed this was what the bathing chambers in the guest chambers looked like.  He’d never been a guest in his own palace so he wasn’t entirely sure…but she had tried her best with all the information she could get.  It may not be royal, but it was Saiyan and she had made it for him.

She let go of his hands and left him to go to the tub’s faucet.  She leaned over to turn it on and he felt himself growl at the sight of her perfect ass still contained in her work jumpsuit.  Memories of her begging him to bend her over the conference table flooding his mind.  Gods, he was rock hard and aching to bend her over the wide stone edge of the tub and have his way with her again.  He wouldn’t have to make sure to cover her mouth with his.  She could scream all she wanted here.  It could echo in here for days…He felt his lips pull back to reveal his canines.  He wanted her.  More than anything in his life.  He wanted her.

Bulma shook the warming water off her hand after testing to make sure she had indeed turned the hot spigot, not the cold.  She looked back at Vegeta and almost gasped.  He looked so primal, so hungry, so…her eyes lighted on his swollen bulge. Horny.

“Vegeta, how about you stripe off and get in.”

“You first,” he practically snarled at her.  What the Hell is wrong with me?!

“Please, Vegeta, I…I, I want this to be perfect for you.”  She said quietly while feeling her whole body hate her for denying what it was aching for too.  Kami, she’d been wet since he’d kissed her a moment ago and now to see how hard he was, how primal he was looking and sounding in his want to fuck her so, so very good…Shit, she was surprised she wasn’t dripping down the inside of her thighs!

When she looked up again, her words had had a cooling, calming effect on the Saiyan Prince. Thank Kami, they both knew how to control themselves.  Well, she surmised they already had done that once while showering and she relied on that now.  Just a little longer, just a little bit longer and he could have all of her he wanted and she could have all of him she wanted.  He was no less hard for her, but at least he wasn’t bearing his teeth anymore. In fact, he wasn’t looking at her anymore, he was staring at the floor…almost in…shame.

She walked up to him and his eyes rose to meet hers.

“It’s okay,” she sought to soothe, “I feel the same.”  She blushed, “I know you know that I do.”

The beginnings of a smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth.  He did.

She smiled, “So if you get undressed and get in the tub and start to relax…”

He nodded.

The giddiness spread through her body and she clapped her hands together with a little jump, grinning like an idiot.  “Great!”

She raced out of the bathroom and he was left alone before he could say a single thing.  He looked around him once again as curls of steam began to rise from the filling tub.  He turned his head and looked at his reflection in the massive mirror across from him.  She had even put in a washing basin in a stone topped counter on top of the pale, white wood cabinet, gold vine faucet again with nautilus hand pulls. Reluctantly, he really wanted her to be slipping his armor off over his head. Preferably in between passionate kisses and him removing her own attire.  But she really seemed to have her heart set on this plan of hers…and he had been able to smell her intense arousal the moment he’d kissed her in the hall.

He dropped his armor and heard it thud loudly on the stone tile floor.  Then he kicked off his boots.  He slipped his gloves off and dropped them on the ground as well. Again with regret, he grabbed onto the bottom hem of his shirt and pulled it up over his head, peeling his shirt off his chiseled body.  He let it fall from his hand.  Then his fingers hooked onto the waistband of his tight pants and pulled them down, down, down.  Peeling it off as well.  And finally setting his erection free with a spring.  That was, he was discovering, the only time he didn’t like how formfitting his battle suit was when it infringed on his arousal for her…although come to think of it, she found his cock springing from his pants as enticing as he found her biting her lip in allurement.

Vegeta stepped over to tub already half filled.  There was a platform around it’s base to act and he used it as the step it was to step up into the tub.  The moment his foot plunged into the water, he felt his whole body relax with the heat of the water.  She knew the temperature he liked…because it was the same temperature she liked in her shower.  He smiled to himself as he submerged his other foot and lowered himself down into the steaming depths.  Gods, he sighed as he felt the edge of the tub was not what he thought it was.  It sloped. He eased back against it, the stone was as hot as the water and he felt his whole body tingle with comfort.

Vegeta closed his eyes and reclined as the hot water rose higher and higher up his naked body. So this was it.  The life he would have had at this age if his Father had not given him over to Freiza.  The life he would have had—he heard the door open and the soft padding of her feet…trying to sneak in.  He smiled again, getting comfortable…then heard her gather up his dirty clothes and quickly pad back out and close the door slowly, quietly behind her.  He frowned, that was not the interruption he was hoping for.  He waited…and waited.  All the time the water rose and rose.  His body tingling more and more as the intense heat forced each muscle to loosen more and more.  He had never done this before.  Never actually relaxed like this before.  But…back on Freiza’s ship, he had dreamed of having more than a moment of this; he had dreamed of having a life like this.  After years, decades, of torture and abuse, every single day of it spent with the burning, searing thought that one day, one fucking day he would finally be strong enough, finally have the power to take on Freiza.  And not just take on the disgusting lizard, but beat him.  Beat him senseless in every single way he’d delighted in beating Vegeta every day he had him.  To grind the evil piece of crap that had destroyed his planet, his people, murdered his Father, beneath his Saiyan armored boot!  But day after day, no matter how hard he pushed himself or was pushed by the likes of Zarbon or Ginyu and his pathetically stupid crew, his goal seemed out of reach…until he’d heard of the Namekians and their wishing orbs.  If he could gain immortality, then all his dreams would have come true…the door opened softly again and he heard the soft padding of her feet again, not sneaking in this time.  She was taking her time walking…then there was a little rattle?  His eyes opened, what the Hell was she—Just as he turned his head, she came into view beside him.  His jaw dropped.

Bulma Briefs was wearing a gown.  Not just any gown.  The fabric was sheer silk starting as royal blue at her shoulders and lightening down to pale blue at the bottom hem.  The whole thing flowed around her.  Even with the careful, limited movements she was making as she carried the silver tray in her hands, the gown flowed around her like water.  Carefully she put the tray down on the side table wide, ledge of the tub.  Shooting him a quick glance before making her way to the tub’s faucet.  The goddess-like gown swishing around her. She reached over and shut the faucet off as the water reached half way up his chest then she stood and faced him. Yes, he had remembered correctly. She was wearing the gown of a Saiyan noble woman.  Not a warrior, but a counselor.  All gentility and grace.  Instead of shoulder armor, there were petals of golden colored jewels bordered in diamonds covering her elegant shoulders.  The soft, seductively sheer, ombred fabric streaming out from underneath.  

With a smile that was all confidence, she unhooked the jeweled pauldrons from her slender shoulders and let the shoulder ‘armor’ fall behind her.  He heard a faint sound as they hit the floor.  His eyes followed her fingers as they latched onto the ties over her shoulders.  She pulled. Blue silk slipped off her skin…fluttered down her body…pooled at her feet.

It was the most beautiful waterfall he had ever seen in his life.

She stepped up the stone and slipped one pointed foot into the hot water…then her other foot. She waded over to him slowly, the water and steam swishing and curling around her naked perfect body like the silk that she had just left behind her on the floor.  She moved to the tray and took up the crystal decanter.  She poured the deep blood red wine into the single silver wineglass before setting the decanter back down on the tray.  Then she took up the glass and moved the rest of the way to him.  She lowered herself into the water, straddling his lap and careful to avoid his member.

“My Prince,” Bulma presented the glass to him, “are you thirsty?”

He nodded dumbly. She leaned forward, put the cool rim to his lower lip, and ever so slightly tilted.  Quickly Vegeta regained his mind and sipped.  It was robust with hints of fruit, oak, and smoke.  He knew it immediately.  His favorite Earth wine.

As he sipped indulgently from her hands, she asked, “Would you like something to eat, my Prince?”

He nodded and took the glass from her hand.  She reached back to the tray and the silver bowl of fruit there.  All his favorites.  She took up a bunch of red grapes.  Vegeta eased back once more as Bulma continued to straddle his lap.  She plucked a grape from the bunch and lowered it to his mouth.  He took the tiny bead of fruit from her fingers and chewed.  She plucked another grape and fed it to him again.  Vegeta took another sip of wine as he eased back. Yes, this (he took another sweet and juicy piece of fruit from her delicate fingertips), this was the life he would have had, should have had—But…the thought occurred to him, she wouldn’t have been in it.  If he had had this life under his Father’s rule, she, she would…it would be a true Saiyan woman on his lap or some alien concubine offered as a gift…but not her. Not…his…Woman.  She wouldn’t be allowed to be his Woman.

Suddenly his hand slipped through the water to her knee.  Her breathing hitched.  His hand travelled up her taut thigh.  She bit her lip, biting back a moan he could see in her bright sapphire eyes that burned with near instantaneous lust for him at his mere touch.  No, suddenly the life he should have had was no longer the life he wanted.  If she couldn’t be in it, then he didn’t want it.  He wanted her, not…he…he…he opened his mouth to receive another grape, but he didn’t chew.  She waited, but his jaw didn’t move.  Slowly a frown creeped into her features.

“Are you hungry, Woman?”  He asked, somewhat muffled.

She tilted her head. Then his lips parted to show her the grape he now held perfectly between his teeth.  His eyebrow arched and the corners of his mouth curled up in a downright sexy smirk.  Her grin dripped with hedonism.  She leaned forward…He felt his stomach not the nearer she got…Her lips parted…Her teeth parted just enough to receive the grape…He felt her breath on his lips—he sucked the grape back into his mouth and chewed.

“Vegeta,” she complained, playfully hitting his chiseled chest as she snapped back away from him.

The splash of the water was music to his ears as he chuckled at her.

“I don’t share,” he said.

Suddenly her face changed.  “I’ll make you.”

Before he could react, her hands were on his cheeks and her lips dove for his.  Her tongue forced it’s way into his mouth.  The kiss was so passionate for a moment he couldn’t breathe.  Then his brain caught onto what her tongue was rolling around his mouth trying to do. His first instinct was to bite her tongue, his second was to play…He worked his tongue, keeping the grape pieces away from her.  She smiled against his lips as her tongue went on the offensive.  He smiled back as he knew the best defense was a good offense himself.  Her whole body writhed as she fought for a piece of grape.  His hand slipped up her thigh to grab one of her plump ass cheeks. Her hips bucked, coming dangerously close to steel rod of a cock.  He groaned uncontrollably.  She moaned into his throat.  For a moment all thoughts of a stupid piece of fruit left his mind.  He wanted her, ached for her, yearned for her.  Her fingers dug into his cheeks and he could feel through her touch that she wanted him too, ached for him too, yearned for him too.  More, he had to have more of her. He sat up and she leaned deeper into his lips.  Suddenly she pulled away from him.  He couldn’t hide the disappointment even as he saw the triumph on her face.  She curled her lips back in a smile that showed the tiny piece of red grape between her teeth to him before she closed her mouth again and chewed.

He growled, scowling. She giggled and his scowl deepened.

“I told you I’d make you share.”

“Tch.”  He looked away.  “And what would you share with me?”

“Everything.”

He looked at her. Her eyes were there to meet his. She sat there on his lap as though it were the most usual place for her to be, as though all of this was so very usual for her.

“What would you share with me?”

“Everything.”

So he had heard her correctly.  He looked her down…then up…he searched her eyes…for something in his own…

He took a drink of wine and savored the way it made his mouth pucker as he eyed her…then offered her the glass.  “Are you thirsty?”

“I though you don’t share,” she smiled.

Her teasing both irritated and turned him on.  He looked away, but looked back when he felt the pressure on the offered wineglass. Her lips took the stain of wine well as she tipped the glass just enough to sip demurely from it.  Vegeta tipped it further.  She sputtered as it overflowed down her cheek, neck, chest, pinking the water.

“Vegeta!  What the hell?!”  While she held out her hands in disgust at her wine mess.

He set the glass down on the tub ledge as he leaned forward.  His tongue snaked out and lapped at the wine dripping off her pert nipple.  She gasped, her hands latching onto chunks of his hair.  He licked.  She bit her lip hard.  He suckled and felt her legs try desperately to squeeze shut.  His hot tongue trailed up her pillowy soft breast.  Licking.  Kissing and sucking his favorite wine from her succulent skin.  With each move, he felt her tremble and try harder and harder to squeeze her legs shut.

“Oh fuck,” she moaned above his head.

He groaned as he continued up her chest.  More and more, he wanted more and more.  Would she give it to him?

“Oh fuck,” she squeaked, clutching his head closer to her chest.

It spurred him. He lurched forward and grabbed her other ass cheek.  Gripping her to him as his tongue and lips made it to her neck.  He buried his face in the crook.  Drinking heavily.  She shuddered.

“Uhnn,” she clawed his shoulders desperately.

Oh fuck, he groaned; he was fairly certain his cock was crying precum into the hot water between them.

“Oh fuck, yesss,” her nails dug into his skin as his tongue ran up her pulse.  She threw her head back.  Her body easing, no longer fighting.

Yes, he dragged his sharp canines down her pulse.

Her hips bucked. The tip of his cock hitting her swollen bead.  She cried out and he nearly did too.  He clutched her to him.

“Gods, mate with me, Bulma?”

“Kami, I thought we already had.”  She gasped as he continued kissing and licking up her jaw.

“No, that’s just sex.”

“What’s the difference?”  Another shudder ran through her body and she curled her head back forward.  Burying her face in his coarse hair.

“Saiyans mate for life,” he breathed against her lips.

Suddenly she tensed. Eyes popping wide open.  He felt it immediately and froze.  His own eyes popping open.  No, no, she couldn’t reject him now.  Not like this.  Not after all of this.  She pulled back to look at him, his grip on her loosening.

“Vegeta,” she was stunned, “is that the Saiyan way of…is it…did you…are you asking me to marry you?”

He stayed silent. Terrified to answer…But the look in her eyes…  “By Saiyan standards.  Yes.”

She released the breath she’d been holding.  Her eyes travelled around the room.  Holy Kami!  She couldn’t believe it.  They had…they had…they had only been doing this for two days.  Literally, it’d only been the past—No, actually it’d only been three nights and two days!  Yes, there had been that night she’d broken up with Yamcha. And, yes, there had been their first time on Namek.  Namek…she looked around her again.  He had said that he hadn’t forgotten what happened between them on Namek, that he still thought about her and then.  Her eyes lighted on nautilus shells, vines, white stone of just the right consistency based on a tiny fragment of a sample from a trader, white wood painstakingly compared the same way as the stone, polished red stone floor again the same…In truth, she hadn’t forgotten Namek either. She did this, she always did this, threw herself into a special project that consumed her, became her obsession…when she was in love.  She gave everything she had to the person she was with…it’s just that…that never really ever got returned to her.

Her eyes returned to his…and she saw something in them that she saw in her own.

“Yes,” she answered.

He startled. Clearly he hadn’t expected her to say that.  “What?”

“I said yes.  I will mate with you, Vegeta, I want to be your mate.”

His eyes became unreadable.  He leaned forward.  She did too, expecting a kiss…until his face and body passed her by.  He rose, forcing her to slide off of him.  She turned and looked up at him as he stood, thinking to cover herself up…until he turned and offered her his hand.  She stared at it then him…then took it.  He helped her stand by the hand like a gentleman.  Then led her wading across the tub to the faucet. He pulled the plug then stepped out of the tub as the water began to drain away.  He helped her maintain her balance as she stepped out of the tub. They stepped on the pooled waterfall of blue fabric she had worn as Vegeta led Bulma by the hand through the door that led to the bed chambers.

[emmaekay]

Keiyaku V for TPTH Vegebul Smutfest

AN: Sorry this is a little late today! Commitments in the real world suck. Also, this chapter is stupid long, so I hope it’s interesting. If it’s boring, you can tell me. Thanks again to @tpthvegebulsmutfest for giving me a venue in which to embarrass myself.

 Bulma was panting, sweating, lungs screaming for air, legs burning from within. Her face was flushed tomato red, much darker than that peachy pink flush that Vegeta usually saw on her face. He watched her, no more than an arm's length away, burning up in and at her breaking point.

"Enough," he said, disappointed, dropping the focus mitts from neck height to his waist. "You're exhausted."

Bulma sat down immediately, bonelessly, and struggled to catch her breath. She wanted to take Daiku's advice to train, but this might kill her long before the antefasting match ever arrived! Today was only day two of her training and she already looked forward to just dying in the battle.

She'd begged to join Vegeta in his morning katas for days, and the previous morning, he had finally woken her up when he left the bed they shared at sunrise.

"Get dressed," he said, groggily. "There's a training suit that should fit you in the bathing chamber. I will not wait." And he left the room, just like that.

Bulma had dressed quickly as she could, pulling on a black suit like his blue one, and boots with grey tips like his own that were tipped in gold. She tied her hair back with a bit of string and ran to catch him as she heard the residence's front door opening - he really was going to leave without her! Dick! she thought, running down the hall.

"I'm coming!" she called out, racing after him out the door. She looked left, and right, and left again. He was gone already! How the hell did he get out of here so fast! Dick! Bulma called out, "Vegeta!"

"What?" His voice, above her by 10 feet, from his body, floating there. "Let's go." he inclined his head toward the training grounds behind the castle and nearly parallel to his residence - though perhaps a mile away. He rocketed away from her and into the not-very-distant horizon.

"I CAN'T FLY, JERK!" she screamed after him. Now she'd have to run the hillocky mile over the field to the training grounds, and she'd have to be quick about it or risk embarrassing herself. She groaned in displeasure, but sprinted as fast as her legs could carry her.

Bulma wasn't in bad shape, certainly, but years of cigarettes and opulence and of being trapped in a laboratory don't exactly hone your body into the picture of athletic prowess. She was nowhere near the performance level that she needed to be to sprint a mile. Vegeta will probably just kill me himself, rather than have a wife who can't run a lousy mile! Bulma could feel fury at herself building up and she kept pumping her legs and arms as the training ground drew closer and closer.

And then a hole, like a gopher's hole on earth, caught the toe of her boot and she went hurtling toward the ground, face first. She threw out her hands and screwed her eyes shut. Any second now, she'd slam into the ground and probably break her face. ...Any second now. Bulma hovered, maybe an inch off the ground, with Vegeta above her and his hands under her arms. She dangled there, eyes screwed shut, waiting for an impact that wouldn't come.

Vegeta began to chuckle, shaking her hanging body with each laugh.

Bulma growled, "Put me down. Put me down!" So, Vegeta did, but he kept laughing.

"The would-be warrior princess of all Saiyans - dead of a broken neck after falling in a hole." He continued laughing; and laughing! Laughing as if this indignity was the funniest thing he'd ever heard in his life! Bulma cocked her arm back and shot it forward, open palm making good contact with Vegeta's cheek.

The slap rang out, sharp, like a shot across the open field and Vegeta stared at her.

Bulma glared at him.

Vegeta sank down into a fighting stance, but left his arms wide. "Come on."

Suddenly, Bulma understood the game. After he accidentally injured her a week ago, and after he’d made it up to her, Vegeta explained that the majority of Saiyans drew their own strength through a deep feeling - of rage, of lust, of protectiveness. He had told her that his own power was dangerous when he was enraged, that rage was the easiest of his powerful emotions to access.

He was trying to make her angry. Leaving her behind, making fun of her. He was trying to help her.

So, Bulma ducked down like she'd seen Chichi do a thousand times, in tournaments and when she was going after Goku for one thing or another. Unlike Chichi, Bulma balled her hands up into fists. She'd taken boxing classes back on Earth once or twice, just to exorcise some of her frustration when managing Capsule Corp was at its most irritating, and had practiced judo long ago, when a kidnapping attempt had rattled her. Goku had saved her then, but she knew she would need the ability to protect herself at some point.

She smirked and double stepped forward. Vegeta easily out maneuvered her. She shot her fists out, two quick rabbit punches that, of course, didn't land. She advanced, again, again and he danced around her. She slid, struck, boxed, dipped and even kicked - landing nothing for what felt like hours. In her building frustration, she yelled, "STAND STILL!" and Vegeta stopped, stock still, as stepped forward. She put her shoulder into his collarbone, snatched up a fistful of his suit at the elbow, crooked her arm under his and with an almighty effort, flipped him over her shoulder.

"HA!" Bulma crowed, staring down at Vegeta. "Got you!"

"Because I stopped moving. A real opponent isn't going to stop just because you say so." He said, still smug. Bulma panted, sweating. She was done for the day and he hadn't even started. "I still need to train. You need to take a break. Will you go back to the residence?"

"No." She crossed her arms and pouted prettily. "No, I won't."

"Fine," he said, rising to his feet and then into the air, lifting her with him. "Then come see what you're facing."

Vegeta took off with one arm under her rump, the other tightly wound around her waist, and flew directly to the training grounds – which looked like nothing more than a large black marble surface but it was enormous. Vegeta's entire residence would fit onto the flat surface four times over, easily. It seemed fairly basic other than that. It was uncovered, outdoors, with four black pillars, one in each corner of the square "stage" and one white tower in the dead center. The marble stage was not level with the ground beneath it, but elevated about three feet from it. Vegeta set her down about five feet from the black surface and strode forward, stepping up onto the stage.

Bulma followed him and could make it no further than the edge of the gleaming obsidian. There were no walls - but try as she might, she could not cross the threshold of the training stage. "Vegeta, what the hell?"

Vegeta stood above her, on the stage. Bulma looked up at him, aggravated. If only her thin body could match the strength of her impervious glare, he thought. "The training grounds have a different gravitational field from the rest of the planet. The barrier keeping you out is in place to keep children with low power levels out - they will otherwise be crushed. You..." Vegeta hesitated, not wanting to compare her to a child, but it was apt. "Your power level is inadequate for entry."

Bulma put her hands on her hips. "Rude."

Vegeta shrugged, spreading his hands, “That’s the way it is.” He turned away from her and made for the center of the grounds, where Nappa and Daiku were sparring. As Vegeta neared them, both fighters stopped, landed and bowed, capitulate to his superior rank and strength. The three fighters acknowledged each other and then began to brawl – all out, fists, fangs, feet, flashes of brilliant light and a host of screams to accompany all. Vegeta was brilliant – literally, he shone with waves of light as Bulma watched him fight, rapt as she saw Vegeta transform from her taunting, sometimes daunting lover into a furious fighter.

He easily could have killed her out in that field.

Nappa and Daiku also fought ferociously and it wasn’t long before blood was shed. Eventually, Nappa and Daiku both landed on the ground, held their right arms high above their heads with their palms flat and heads bowed. Surrender.

Vegeta nodded his head, accepting their loss, and buzzed off to start another fight. Both Daiku and Nappa approached Bulma and sat at the edge of the training grounds. Both men were so tall, their feet stretched out before them despite the elevation of the marble.

“Is this your first time seeing him fight?” Nappa asked.

“Yes, technically.” Bulma admitted. It was not the first time she’d seen Vegeta’s violent side, nor was it her first exposure to his power, but she didn’t think the Prince would want people to hear about his little tantrum.

“Technically,” Daiku repeated, wiggling his eyebrows lasciviously and jabbing his elbow into Nappa’s side.

The giants laughed a little at that and Bulma snorted sarcastically. “Don’t be crude.”

“That’s like telling him not to be Saiyan!” Nappa bellowed, still amped up from the fight. “We’re all pretty rough around the edges, you know. Are you sure you want to be the queen of the crude?”

It actually hadn’t occurred to Bulma that she might one day be the queen – assuming that was a thing? She guessed that Vegeta would one day be the King, Beri had explained that much to her, but she wasn’t sure she would be a queen. Didn’t Earth royalty work a little differently from that? Bulma cocked and eyebrow and racked her brain, thinking about how royalty actually worked back where she was from.

“Nappa!” Daiku said angrily. “See what you’ve done, now she’s seriously wondering if she wants to be Vegeta’s queen!”

Nappa paled and now it was Bulma’s turn to laugh. “I am not! I was thinking about the way royalty works where I’m from, and I don’t think an outsider who marries into a royal family automatically becomes royalty.”

“What’s ‘marries’?” Nappa asked.

“Oh, that’s what we call the fasting at home.” Bulma explained.

“Oh. Well that’s idiotic,” Nappa retorted.

“Uh, I didn’t invent the word.”

“No, I mean the royalty thing. If the King or Queen or Prince decides on someone as good enough, and that person proves themselves in combat, why shouldn’t they become royalty?” Nappa said, with a tinge of pride – clearly, his people’s way of thinking was superior. “When you are fasted to Vegeta, you will be the Princess of all Saiyans. When his father and mother die, become weak or abdicate, he will become the King Vegeta and you will be the Queen Bulma.”

Bulma pursed her lips, “Seriously?”

“Seriously,” Daiku confirmed.

“Neat.”

 ***

Daiku and Nappa went back to their training and Bulma wandered the perimeter of the training grounds, watching the Saiyans. There were children, women and huge men in clusters and alone all over the black surface. Some fought on the ground, some fought in the air. Some blasted waves of energy – the waves looked like light from some, like fire or ice from others. Green beams, yellow beams, red beams, blue beams. She heard Vegeta’s voice more than once before blinding flashes of royal aubergine light blasted from one place or another.

She studied the fighters all the morning long, and she found two things to be true.

The first is that the Saiyans possessed a kind of genetic power that no Earthing could match.

The second was the absolute certainty that she would die fighting one of them.

As Bulma came to the second conclusion, she felt tears begin to prick her eyes. Why would the dragon send her here just to die? Was this really her destiny? To meet the man of her wildest dreams… and to die before she could really even know him?

Before she could get too depressed, Bulma clapped her face between her hands in a hard slap. I’m Bulma Briefs! I can find a way.

 As she began to think about building herself some kind of steel exoskeleton, Beri approached her from behind. “Lady Bulma?”

“Beri! Hi!” Bulma thought about asking Beri if she knew where to get steel and welding equipment, but Beri looked a little flustered. “Here to train?” “I train in the evenings, after the Prince has retired for the day. I am actually here for you, Lady.”

“Oh, Beri,” Bulma sighed, “Will you please just call me Bulma?”

“That’s not appropriate. When Vegeta selected you, you received a title.”

“Nappa doesn’t call me Lady.”

Beri rolled her eyes. “Nappa,” she snarled, “Wouldn’t know ‘appropriate’ if I struck him with it.”

Bulma snorted. Beri was, of course, completely right. The women laughed together, until Beri suddenly clapped a hand over her own mouth. “Lady Bulma, I came to get you! You must come back to the house now and change out of that suit. The Queen has summoned you.” “Is it the battle? Has she set the day and time of the antefasting battle?” Bulma suddenly felt like a little rabbit amongst wolves – no amount of training, no amount of judo classes, would close the gap between her and any one of the warriors training behind her.

Beri placed a hand on her arm. “I don’t think so, Lady. Vegeta would be summoned for that, too, and to the throne room. The Queen Pea has summoned only you, and to her garden for the midday meal.”

It was late morning now, and Bulma would need to shower and fix her face and find something to wear and she would kill a man – kill a man dead – for just a tube of red lipstick. But again, Beri gently touched her arm. “I have your clothing prepared and a bath drawn, jewelry laid for your selection.”

Bulma smiled at her friend. However different they may be, deep down, a woman knew a woman’s heart.

 **

Bulma stood in the royal garden, draped in gossamer white arranged like a tea dress, the same gold bracelet with white stones on her wrist and a pale pink scarf around her throat. Beri had no idea what “cosmetics” were, and Bulma had discovered that Saiyan women didn’t make up their faces. They were partial to jewels and scarves, adornments for the hair, and other trappings, but didn’t change the appearance of their natural looks.

But, Bulma was a scientist and nothing was beyond her making. She took an inkstone and the thinnest paintbrush Beri could find at a moment’s notice, and from it made her own eyeliner and mascara. She raided the kitchen and found little red fruits, which she crushed and strained, boiled and strained again, until she had a lip stain in her favorite ruby red.

Not bad for a planet that doesn’t have a single palette of makeup! Bulma thought to herself. The results were subtle, but enough to boost her confidence.

“On my planet,” Bulma had explained to Beri, “All women have a battle shade of lipstick. Whether you mean to attract someone or stop a meeting dead when you walk in, a little polish goes a long way.” She winked and Beri dabbed her own mouth with the red stain. “You do battle with facepaint?”

“Sometimes!” Bulma laughed.

And now, standing in the garden, Bulma felt glad she had it. There was a little cart with covered dishes, a small table made of gilt marble, and two chairs. Near it, Queen Pea stood – tall and resplendent, wrapped in sapphire blue silk with her long, raven hair flowing in the little breeze around her. As Bulma stepped toward her, the Queen raised a hand in greeting.

Bulma did a little curtsey. “Queen Pea. You summoned me?”

The Queen laughed. “Summoned?” Her laugh was light and warm, like the day that surrounded them. “Beri really is the most dutiful and proper Saiyan. I invited you. Invited you to have a meal with me, in my garden, so that I may know you better.”

Bulma breathed the nectar sweetened air a little easier. “I’m happy to do that, Queen Pea.”

“Please, come and sit.” The Queen gestured to a chair and Bulma stepped around the table to take it. “My son,” she continued, “is very possibly the strongest Saiyan ever born. He has some … hang ups that prevent him from releasing that strength unless very desperate, but don’t tell him I said that.” Her voice carried an almost conspiratorial tone and she leaned over the table to Bulma.

“Is he very cruel to you?” Pea whispered.

“No!” Bulma said, instantly. “No, he isn’t cruel to me at all.”

The Queen inclined her head, just slightly, just barely betraying her disbelief. “Your head is injured.”

It was true that the cut on Bulma’s face had not healed completely and she still had the lightest bruise and a single healing cut. “That – he – well, you see – “

“And,” the Queen cut her off, “I watched him taunting you on the field earlier.”

“I insisted he train me! He was trying to help me, I think.”

“And,” the Queen continued her list, “He tried to send you away.”

Bulma’s mouth fell open. How could she have known that? “Ah ha! So he did try!” Pea said triumphantly. “That one was a guess.” Her smirk was very like her son’s. “I think it best, Bulma, if you’re honest with me.”

“Vegeta is not cruel to me. I cut my head when – well, technically it was some debris that cut my head – and he was responsible, but,” Bulma sighed. Surely Pea knew her own son. It wouldn’t dishonor him to tell her, would it? “He threw a tantrum when we came back from the throne room after he announced me as his choice. He was in a rage and I think he lost control of his power. He didn’t intentionally strike me.”

“I see,” the Queen mused in her honey warm voice. “Do you know, the last time he was out of his own control, he destroyed his entire residence and it was the King who had to battle him for hours to spend that energy?”

“I didn’t know that, no.” Jeez, Vegeta. “What was the cause?”

“The death of his brother in an arena battle. We were all much grieved,” Pea confessed, sadness stealing the sunlight from her voice. “His brother was smaller. Younger.  Had just barely reached the age of independence, and like Vegeta, decided to enter an arena battle. Tarble was his name.”

Bulma couldn’t help herself – she reached out and laid her hand on the Queen’s own, which had flopped lifeless to the tabletop as she spoke her dead son’s name. Pea turned her hand over and held Bulma’s for an instant, before resuming her story and returning her hands to her lap.

“Vegeta was in a rage, and I have always thought that he secretly blamed himself. Tarble idolized his brother, and that is why he entered the battles. But he died honorably, and we speak his name with great pride.” The Queen straightened a bit. “How did Vegeta regain control of himself?”

“You mean after this?” Bulma pointed to her head. “I fell down from the impact and everything stopped. I ripped him a new one and, uh… well, we made our peace with it.”

“You yelled at him?” Pea raised an eyebrow.

“Oh yeah.”

“And he stopped his rage?”

“He had stopped just before that, I think. I guess I don’t remember exactly.”

“Mm. And today, you know, I was watching you play and you actually threw him! With your little body! I was amazed.”

Bulma laughed, “Vegeta says I cheated. I made him stand still a second because I was just so tired of him dodging everything. Really, he gave me that one.”

“Made him? How?” the Queen said with wonder overmuch.

“Oh, I just yelled at him again, I guess! ‘Stand still!’ I think I shouted.”

“Ah, a woman’s irresistible words, I suppose.” And the queen hid a smile, a warm, turning to uncover the food from the little cart. “Let’s have a little sustenance, and then, I think I would like to hear about your childhood.”

The Queen uncovered dishes of greens, fruits and what looked like a large, rare roast, and to Bulma’s surprise, began serving her. “Um, your Highness? Should I serve you? Or myself?”

“My son is, and likely will always remain a fool,” Pea said with a sigh. “He hasn’t taught you any of our customs or manners, has he?”

Bulma blushed hotly, fearing she’d offended the queen. “Not… much?”

“Well, in the royal houses, the highest ranking individual serves all those she outranks their first plate. Seconds, thirds, fourths and drink are all a free for all, though. The rule applies to man and woman, of course, though I doubt Vegeta has served anything to anyone in his life. It is a sign of welcome and respect, neither of which Vegeta offers very often.” Pea handed her a heaping plate before beginning to arrange one for herself. “The custom is fine when it’s two or a few, but imagine the banquets! For years, you know,” Pea leaned toward her, conspiratorial again, and very endearing, “I had to walk around serving everyone alongside my king. We would be starving! But then I realized, if we just showed up late, after the first service was made, we would only have to serve each other!” she tittered then, her laugh like the bright tinkle of windchimes in a summer breeze, and Bulma joined her in a little giggle of her own.

Bulma and Queen Pea ate heartily – Bulma was famished after her morning of training and lack of breakfast. Something about the food on this planet must be somehow incompatible with human biology, Bulma thought, for although she ate as much as she liked, she always seemed to be hungry in these last two weeks. Since she’d only been on the planet for perhaps a month, it was possible her body just wasn’t used to the caloric difference yet. But the food was tasty, when anyone other than Bulma prepared it, so she was happy to eat her fill with abandon.

As they cleared their plates, Bulma told Queen Pea about her childhood adventures through the world, about searching for the dragon balls, about meeting the little wild boy Goku who would become her best friend. Bulma told Pea all about Chichi and little Gohan, and at length about Yamcha, and even about his straying eyes.

Queen Pea clicked her teeth at the last. “That doesn’t happen here. Terrible civilization to allow it – where is his honor?” “No one cheats here?” “What,” asked the Queen, “is ‘cheats?’”

“Uh, well, it would be like what Yamcha did, or worse, becoming physically intimate with someone not in the relationship.”

“Absolutely not!” the Queen was aghast. “Absolutely never. Some Saiyans take multiple fasted partners, but all parties must agree and they are free to share themselves with each other, but Saiyans don’t ‘cheat’ on their fasted partners. How could they? Their honor is staked on that, and what a dishonor it would be to betray someone who risked their life for you.”

“The antefasting battle, you mean?”

“Yes. That is part of the battle’s significance. It proves the honor of the fighter, and makes the keiyaku between partners fast – like glue between two pages in a book, the keiyaku is not easily rent asunder.”

“Keiyaku?” Bulma asked. “We don’t have that word, I guess. I don’t understand it.”

“Oh. Well, the keiyaku is…” the Queen stalled, “it is… a sacred emotion. It is the feeling between fasted ones. A fierce need, a devoted protection, the desire to see them always, the notion that their death would be as if the sun were snuffed out, the keiyaku makes it feel as if your heart has been plucked out of your chest if your fasted one is in battle or experiencing injury… it is very sacred to us.”

“Love?” Bulma asked.

“What is ‘love?’ Is that your word for the keiyaku?”

“I think so; it sounds like the way I would describe love.”

“Then, you know the emotion! Do you feel the keiyaku growing between you and my son?

Bulma blushed again, red in the ears and face. “Well, I. Well, you know I…”

Queen Pea stared back into Bulma’s eyes with such motherly love, such womanly knowing. “You do. You feel the keiyaku!” She clapped her hands together once. “When the Prince brought you before us, I knew what he intended. To defraud his father into a few years freedom, of course. My son is wily.”

She knew the whole time. Bulma’s eyes widened and the Queen chuckled lightly. “Of course I knew. He is my son and I am the reason he is wild – I took him on many travels and many adventures from the time he could walk. I have a great wanderlust, as well, and he is my son.” Pea smiled, recalling fondly the time she had spent with her child among the stars. It was the best time of her life, one she wished to experience again soon.

“But beyond that trick, I perceived something. A strength in you that could appeal to him. A fondness for you that had already begun to grow in him. And so, I approved of the fasting. You will have to survive the antefasting battle, but I know you can. Look hard within yourself, you already possess every strength you will need to win.”

Queen Pea stood from the table, as the afternoon shadows grew long and one specific shadow drew down to the ground and her son’s boots alighted on the ground beside Bulma, who shivered when he placed a hand on her shoulder, surprising her.

“Queen Pea, mother,” Vegeta said, warily. “Why was I not summoned?”

“Vegeta,” the Queen smiled, closing the distance between them and placing a hand on his cheek. “It has been a great many years since you wished to have your meals with me.” She winked at Bulma, then took to the air and flew directly through the opening door to the castle and into the King’s open arms, who kissed her when she was near enough.

“The antefasting battle will be held in 24 days, on the night of the next full moon.” Queen Pea announced from her place near the king, the darkened doorway of the castle framing her like a stained glass window.

The King spoke next, “In consideration to the woman’s size and strength, the battle will not be a melee. It will be one on one, and Bulma need only remain standing for one minute.”

Vegeta and Bulma both let out a breath they didn’t realize they were holding. One fighter! I don’t even have to hit ‘em! I can just run away for a minute. Bulma thought she saw light at the end of the tunnel.

“However,” the King continued, “in consideration of her pride and honor, the fighter will be one of our best. Arena Champion Daiku.”

The King shut the heavy door, just as Vegeta lobbed an energy wave at him, with a great scream of rage and pain. The door stood fast and the conditions were set.

I’m gonna die. Her face fell. What hope did she have, against that mountain of a man?

Vegeta swept her up in his arms and rocketed away from his residence, from the castle, his face buried in her neck as he began kissing her there in the air, wrapping her in his energy to keep her aloft as he ran his hands under her dress and along her body. He wanted her away from the spot where her death was decreed. He never should have touched her. He never should have looked at her. She never should have come here.

But it had happened. And now, Vegeta could not deny that he needed her with a terrifying ferocity, would not part with her under any circumstance. He flew her up, high up and away from everything, hidden from everyone but the moon, cradled in clouds and mist – iridescent and pale, like her skin underneath the dress she wore. She looked around, eyes wide with fear.

“Do you trust me?” Vegeta asked her. “Do you trust me with your life?”

Bulma threw her head back and felt the warmth of his body against her, the heat of his energy all around her. “Don’t drop me.”

“I will never let you go.” He growled against her throat. “I will cripple that Daiku at training tomorrow. I’ll tear his arms off,” he said, stroking her own arms with his hands. “I’ll tear his legs off.” He ran one hand up her thigh. “I’ll tear his throat out,” he promised, with his teeth on her neck. “I will never, never allow anyone to hurt you.”

They were high in the night sky, against a sliver of moon, and Bulma wrapped her legs around his hips and let her body fall backward. She was free, and she was afraid. Of the height. Of her feelings. Of the battle to come. Her heart rabbited against her chest and she could feel the tears coming. A raging river built inside her.

“Nothing will hurt you. Nothing will hurt you, ever, ever so long as I live.” He placed one strong hand in the small of her back, and watched the way her nipples peaked under the gossamer fabric of the dress she wore. He hiked her dress higher, up over her hips, kissing every inch of skin as he exposed it. “Never, never,” he whispered against her skin.

He was afraid, truly afraid for the first time in his life. Lose his honor & lose his title, or lose her? “Never, never, never,” he whispered to her, and to himself. Her body, dangling from his, looked dead already in her despair. He kissed her here, there, everywhere he could reach. With his free hand, he stroked her body, trying to soothe away her fear – soothing his own with her warmth and nearness.

In the night sky, among the stars of Vegetasei, he entered her as if it would be the last time he touched her. Bulma cried out as he brought her back to life and she tightened her legs around him. He drove deeply into her, grasping her with desperate hands. She felt him inside her, the pressure sweet and the heat intense, even though the sun was long gone. High above the treetops, they sent each other over the edge in ecstasy. They let their fear and love rage until both surrendered to the reality of it, as gravity forces the river into a waterfall.

[scarletraven1001]

Natural

Bulma takes Vegeta out on a trip to experience the natural beauty of the outdoors, to help him relieve some stress. However, Vegeta is more interested in relieving his stress via natural beauty of a different sort.

[A one-shot, for the February 2018 / Spring 2018 @tpthvegebulsmutfest. Day five: Waterfall.]

Also on Ao3.

 8-8-8-8-8

Natural

8-8-8-8-8

Vegeta had never been what one would call serene.

In fact, he would not be surprised if he found the word vegeta listed as the word’s antonym.

He was a chaotic bastard.

He enjoyed destruction and pandemonium. He thrived in battle and was a harbringer of death, himself. The mere whisper of his name had once sent millions of beings fleeing in frenzied terror, quivering at the prospect of his white boots settling on their grounds.

Which was why he found his current situation so laughably unbelievable.

He was currently wearing a loose white muscle shirt with training pants, seated on a blue and red checkered blanket in the middle of nowhere. He was in a small clearing surrounded by thick copses of tall trees and the insistent sound of thousands of wildlife. A few meters away from him was a river being fed by a short waterfall, clear water flowing down from a hill framed by more foliage.

He watched as the water falling from the hill splashed merrily into the river, licking at the rocks bordering the small narrow water form.

It was too… peaceful. Too fucking serene.

It was unnerving.

He still had no idea what they were even doing, since all he had been told before he had caved and agreed to come along, was that it was a surprise.

Bulma, the one who dragged him into this peculiar excursion, was currently leaning into the small round plane that they had used to reach the secluded area.

The blue-haired woman had her back to him, her short yellow sundress riding up her thighs as she tried to reach for something inside the vehicle.

Vegeta angled his body slightly to the right, a grin stretching his lips as she unwittingly showed off more of her creamy skin with her efforts. His eyes had narrowed lecherously, and he was just about to lean forward to get a better view when she turned around to face him.

His alien reflexes certainly paid off as he very quickly averted his eyes, turning his head away so as not to be caught peeping at his own wife. A dark flush rose to his cheeks, mortified at his own actions and at nearly getting caught ogling her.

Oh, the indignity.

The woman seemed clueless, as she was currently holding up the capsules she had been retrieving.

“Here they are!” she crowed triumphantly, brandishing her find.

“What exactly are we doing here, Bulma?” he asked, turning to glance at her out of the corner of his eye, not quite confident that his cheeks had indeed stopped burning.

“Well,” she began, “since you have been so busy with your training lately, I wanted to give you a chance to unwind.”

At this, she threw one of the capsules down to the center of the large blanket he was seated on, and a moment later, the little gadget released its contents with a tiny ‘pop’.

Vegeta blinked as he looked down at the veritable feast before him, and his mouth watered as he realized that the blanket was now laden with fruit, breads, and several varieties of meat and fish in an amazing assortment of recipes. Grilled, charbroiled, baked, pan fried and roasted, the smells assaulted him and he looked up at his wife – his beautiful, fantastic wife – with awed eyes.

“A feast?” he asked, hands clenching and unclenching as his stomach began to growl at him in sudden hunger.

“A picnic, actually,” Bulma laughed, sitting down across from him and picking up a bowl of grapes. “But I know that the usual picnic food wouldn’t even partially satisfy you, so I made this.”

“Pick nick?” he asked, not being familiar with the term.

Bulma picked up a grape and bit into it, and he took that as a signal to start digging in. Vegeta eagerly grabbed a roasted dinosaur leg and began to tear into it with gusto.

“It’s when you go out and have some food outdoors,” she explained. “In its most cliché form, you bring a basket of food and find a nice grassy park, then lay down a blanket like this one,” she patted the blanket they were sitting on.

Vegeta paused chewing to regard her. “Towards what purpose?”

“For fun, silly!” Bulma said as she picked up a bread roll and began to spread some strawberry jelly on it. “It’s to relax. Usually it’s done by families, or young couples on a date.”

“Why did we leave Trunks behind with Kakarot’s brat, then?”

“Because this is not a family outing, we are on a date! Our first date, if I am not mistaken.”

He nodded. So it was. He was still confused though as to why they journeyed 60 miles east of their home for this date.

Bulma seemed to have read his mind as she continued, “It’s supposed to be outdoors, and I wanted to go to a place that we’ve never been to before. Then I found this place, and I thought we should have the picnic here because it’s such a lovely spot.”

The two ate in comfortable silence for several minutes, until all the meat was gone and Bulma had also had her fill. When they were both full, Bulma stood, with Vegeta following suit. She encapsulated the remaining scraps of their food along with the blanket, then excitedly pulled Vegeta behind her until they stood at the river’s edge, a few meters away from the waterfall.

Bulma pulled out another capsule and threw it onto the floor, and when the smoke cleared, Vegeta found himself looking at a small, white, round gazebo. It reminded him of the one they had back at home, but this one had a clear, see-through sun roof, supported by delicate wooden beams. A small, simple flat bed was in the middle of the structure, just barely large enough to comfortably fit two people.

He turned to Bulma, a questioning look in his eyes. “Is it also customary to bring your own tiny house to these picknicks?”

“Nope,” she grinned cheekily. “But I wanted to lie back and relax here, and I sure as heck wasn’t gonna lie back on the hard ground for long.”

They entered the gazebo, and Bulma made Vegeta lie down on the narrow bed. When he had settled, Bulma crawled in after him, settling on his right side against him, her head on his chest, tucked under his chin. Her short blue hair tickled his chest, her breaths fanning gently over his skin. His right arm automatically wrapped around her waist, his other arm moving up to fold beneath his head.

Vegeta realized that they were both laying down with the waterfall before them, close enough that drops of water were pattering slightly on the clear roof of their little abode.

Bulma sighed against his chest. “Isn’t it romantic?”

He frowned, “What? The waterfall?”

“No,” she slapped his chest lightly in slight frustration. “You know, us, here, in the middle of nowhere, just the two of us, the sounds of nature all around us. It’s so peaceful here.”

She moved up so she was laying on her side, her head raised beside his as she leaned on her left arm to look down at his face.

“You have been so stressed from everything lately, so I wanted you to rest some,” she began. “I read somewhere that going out and enjoying nature can help relieve stress and anxiety. Beautiful views like this,” she motioned around them, “with the waterfall… it’s supposed to help you wash away your problems, cleanse you. Is it working?”

Vegeta looked into her hopeful eyes as he considered.

The sound of rushing water was indeed soothing, and the chirping and tittering of birds and other small animals provided a cheerful backdrop to the calming surroundings.

It was completely different from the bustle of the city wherein Capsule Corp was located, with not a single vehicle, building or other earthling human in sight.

True, he was not normally one to flourish in such undisturbed places, but when he truly considered, he could, with all honesty, probably say that he actually didn’t hate it.

“It is acceptable,” he answered, and Bulma beamed, a brilliant smile that lit up her whole face, before she once again laid down to burrow herself onto his side.

They lay together quietly for several minutes, taking in the beauty of nature, the sights and sounds of life away from the harsh artificial lights and mechanical sounds of civilization.

He could feel the heat of her body on his palm, through her sundress, and Vegeta clutched her waist tighter, possessively pulling her closer to him.

His woman really never did cease to amaze him.

Here they were, in a break away from their hectic lives, on a mini holiday she had planned all by herself, so that they could enjoy a few hours of tranquility.

He felt her small thin fingers move across his chest, drawing slow circles over his skin, and he reciprocated, letting his fingers trace the curve of her hip over the thin material of her clothing.

Vegeta was surprised when his small actions were followed by her scent suddenly spiking, a smirk stretching across his lips as he realized that, peace of nature be damned, his vulgar little wife was aroused, and he was damn well going to do something about it.

Without warning, he flipped them over, and he felt more than heard her startled gasp when he suddenly held her down against the softness of the small bed.

“Bulma,” he began, kneeling astride her closed legs, leaning over her, his hands gripping her waist on both sides. “Didn’t you say earlier that this trip was intended to relieve some stress?”

She was looking up at him with wide eyes, her lips parted, a light blush dusting her cheeks as he moved his fingers against her body in a slow, rhythmic massage.

He lowered his head to hers, his lips brushing against the lobe of her ear as he whispered in a voice roughened by his lust, “I know of another way to relieve stress.”

“Vegeta,” she whispered back and he heard slight apprehension in her tone. “We are outdoors!”

“What of it? We are miles away from civilization.”

His hand moved to her face, tilting her head up, before he planted a forceful, hungry kiss on her open mouth, his tongue immediately finding and tangling with hers.

Bulma moaned, and he cheered in his head as he felt her small hands reach for his chest once again, stroking him softly, her touch a strong contrast to the vigorous kiss their mouths were engaging in.

Though the nature surrounding them was indeed beautiful, Vegeta wanted to luxuriate in the natural beauty of his woman, so he pulled her up to sit on the bed, his hands frantically grasping at the clothing keeping her magnificence from his view.

He began to pull the clothing up, resisting the urge to incinerate the material in his hands as he wasn’t sure if Bulma had a spare set of clothes, and he didn’t much relish the thought of his wife having to go home in the nude. He would never hear the end of it.

He finally managed to pull her free from her dress, and his eyes greedily took in the sight of her in her underclothes. She had on a white lace bra and matching panties, and he reached back to deftly unhook her bra, sliding if off her chest, the straps trailing along her arms as the item was dropped onto the floor beside their bed. Her pink nipples jutted out from the center of her milky orbs, and Vegeta practically drooled in want.

Vegeta hurriedly pulled his shirt off, watching in satisfaction as Bulma eyed him eagerly, desire darkening her eyes to an intense shade of blue.

He stood back and stared at her for a moment, admiring the way the natural light filtering through the trees into their clearing highlighted the dips and curves of her lovely body.

He gripped the top of his pants and boxers to push the clothing off him, the cloth dropping to pool at his knees. He shifted his weight to one leg, then the other, as he pulled his clothing off, not daring to take his eyes off the woman before him.

Bulma stood upright on the bed, placing her hands on his shoulders for support as she slowly slid her panties down her long, slim legs. Vegeta breathed in through his nose as her scent washed over him when her smooth core was bared before him, level with his eyes, and he shuddered with lust as he saw that the pink folds he craved so much were already damp with her need.

He leaned back a little on his haunches as he pulled her down, his knees braced on the bed, slightly parted so he can have her sit on his lap with her legs straddling his own. Once she was settled, he lifted an arm to support her on the small of her back while his other hand rose to cup and enthusiastically massage one of her breasts.

Her wet heat was rubbing against his hardness as she moved with him, and Vegeta felt himself going rock-hard as she started mewling in delight against him.

He captured her lips in a short but deep kiss, then moved down to trail his mouth down her neck. He sucked harshly at her pulse point, feeling the wild beating of her heart against his tongue.

Bulma’s arms had wrapped around his neck as she pressed herself harder against him, still rubbing her soaking mound desperately against his erection. She had thrown her head back, offering her bare throat to him as he lavished her with hot licks and sharp nips, her small gasps and moans calling out to the most primal part of him that was now roaring with need for her.

He needed to be inside her, now.

Vegeta let go of her luscious breasts, both hands flying to hold her around the waist, then, with a sharp, abrupt yank, roughly impaled himself into her quivering core.

He heard himself release a guttural growl as Bulma keened, crying out his name, her voice echoing around the clearing.

He immediately began to pull her up and down his cock, her rounded buttocks slapping against the tops of his thighs as he made vigorous love to her in their little piece of outdoor heaven.

Her head lolled back, hands reaching out to grasp his powerful forearms as he bounced her repeatedly. She released a tiny, needy whine, and he lifted one hand to push her back so she was partway laying down, body bowed back as he continued thrusting into her.

Her hands released their death grip on his arms as she lost control and fell back, gasping, her legs frantically reaching out to wrap around his hips as her feet slipped and lost their traction on the soft mattress.

Vegeta didn’t pause in his thrusting, and he held her waist in both hands once again, pulling her hips to his repeatedly, slamming her against him as she shrilled wildly in helpless abandon.

Bulma’s hands flailed around until they finally fell onto the mattress, palms down, trying to hold her head up as he mercilessly pummeled her core with his hardness.

She was arched back, her breasts thrust up in the air, and Vegeta’s heated gaze marveled at how lewdly they bounced around her chest with their harsh movements and her heaving breaths.

“Vegeta! Oh! Please don’t stop!” she screamed at him pleadingly, eyes tightly closed as her head started falling, pressing against the bedding as her arms began to lose strength.

“Never,” he growled low as he jerked her body up so her hands were planted flat against the bed once again. “Not until you cum for me!”

Bulma groaned loudly, trying desperately to lift her head, and Vegeta watched as her blue orbs fought to meet his dark gaze as he pounded relentlessly into her frail body.

“Ah! Ah! Aaaah!” she screamed stutteringly, one hand lifting to hold on to his knee, needing to touch him. “Oh! Vegeta! Oh kami… I need it!”

“Then take it,” he growled low, pushing even harder against her, and he found himself also leaning down as he too realized that he wanted to look into her eyes as she drowned in the pleasure he gave her.

“Oooh… yes!” she howled  as his hands travelled up from her waist to hold her upper body up, gripping her near her smooth armpits, supporting her as she lost control against him.

He felt her legs tremble around him, her limbs stiff against his lower back as he felt the deep shudders begin to course through her body, a tell-tale sign that she was very, very close to the edge.

She began to chant his name, broken, choked up syllables, her needy voice washing over him as he too felt the beginnings of his release as the sensations built up within his core.

She was sobbing now, and he was panting hard, sweat dripping down their bodies as they arched, reached for that delicious apex of ecstasy.

Bracing her body with one hand, he reached down and pressed his thumb against her swollen clit…

Bulma screamed, a sound ripped from her very soul, shaking violently in his arms. Her eyes were tightly closed as she reached her peak, arms losing strength and falling away, letting her head fall back against the bed as she shattered against him.

Her walls convulsed wildly around him, and unable to hold back, Vegeta roared, an animalistic need to let the world hear him claiming her washing over him as he emptied himself into her willing body.

His knees buckled and he fell forward, slumping bonelessly against Bulma, who had all but sprawled across the tiny bed, staring blindly up at the blue sky through the clear roof of their gazebo.

“Wuh... wow,” she breathed out, voice holding a slight twinge of disbelief. “Vegeta, that… wow!”

He grinned as he moved up her body, lazily licking her nipple as he slithered upwards, until he could lean down and look into her face.

That face… How he treasured that face.

“Tch,” he sneered, even as he curled around her protectively, his arms shielding her from the cool air surrounding them.

“I guess,” she struggled to speak through her rough panting, “that was some major stress-relief, huh.”

He chuckled from deep within his chest, tightening his arms around her.

“And outdoor sex! I never thought you would agree, never mind initiate it!” she said, still breathless.

“Woman, do you mind? I am trying to enjoy the silence of nature,” he taunted her, peering up at her face as she pouted at him.

“Oh sure. Be like that. See if I ever take you out on a picnic again.”

8-8-8-8-8

END

8-8-8-8-8

End Notes:

I was using this app the other day that makes soothing nature sounds to help you fall asleep. I found that one option was a waterfall, so I figured, relaxing beside an actual waterfall, with the sights and sounds of actual nature, should be awesome. I guess it would be even better if I had my own Saiyan to cuddle with, lol!

This is my shortest ever one-shot, and was barely edited. I almost didn’t finish it, coz real life decided to suck, and adulting is hard. :(

Also, I almost had them do the dirty on the blanket, but I just thought that the Bulma in my head probably wouldn’t be very open (heh) to being on the hard ground. :D

Reference for the Waterfall position here.

Feedback will be greatly appreciated!