AN: Just a fic I thought up out of the blue because I have seen so many
B/V's set in the three year period, I thought I would put my own up.
However, don't be fooled because it won't be the cliche B/V of Yamcha
cheating on Bulma and her running into Vegeta's arms. What will she do
when she sees Vegeta's obsession and possessiveness of her? Will she
realize her true feelings or will Vegeta's dark past keep them apart? Even
the Saiyan Prince has a heart and feelings... He just hides it better than
the rest of us. Too bad he couldn't hide them from Bulma. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: Don't own DBZ, however characters you've never heard of *are mine* so steer clear or you'll be in for a bruisin'... Unless you ask permission of course *smirks*.
~*~
Every corner he turned, she was there. Right in front of his face, her skin glowing like the angel she was, she was there.
Every gesture, movement and soft spoken word she sent his way, seemed to drive the Saiyan Prince insane. Insane with desire. It was strange, for he had never felt this way before, not about any other female he had encountered on his journeys in space and especially when he was in the clutches of the lizard bastard that was named Frieza.
The entire thought had been completely ridiculous to him, yet here he was having unknown feelings rage inside of him every time she entered the same room as him, or even when she cast him a sideways glance for a mere second.
That second seemed to stretch on for eternity in Vegeta's mind. He was not used to having these feelings inside him, had no clue how to dissipate the churning in his stomach every time she was near
She was becoming an obsession. That's what it was, he argued with himself, to put a name to fire that burned inside his heart.
An obsession;
One that he would just have to ride out.
~*~
"Vegeta."
A soft voice interrupted his thoughts. He scowled and looked to the owner of the voice, momentarily shocked that he had lost himself deep in thought in the presence of... Her.
He was always in awe at how his name sounded so soft against her lips. The three syllables of his name sounded so sweet as they left her pouted lips that he wondered how she would speak his name beneath him in bed, as he drove into her with the force of a-
"What?" He snapped, wincing inwardly at the harsh tone of his voice. He could never act civil in her company and secretly wondered if the strange churning of his stomach had anything to do with it.
Bulma stared at the older man for a moment. He seemed to have been lost in thought for a split second and seemed inconceivably annoyed at having his train of thought interrupted.
"Sorry," she murmured quietly, wondering why he was staring at her face so intently and why his own face seemed to take on a strange red hue. He had been simply staring at her more than needed recently and it was extremely unnerving for her.
"I just wanted to know if you wanted any more pancakes," she said, clearing her throat as she shifted her weight to her other foot, holding the flat pan steadily in her hand by the long handle. Normally, she would have replied to his harsh tone with one of her waspish remarks, but she could feel that something was different that day. She just couldn't figure out exactly what.
Vegeta tilted his head in amusement. He had never seen her donning an apron before that morning. Suffice to say, she looked rather endearing. He smirked inwardly as he thought of how she would react if he ripped it right from her lithe body. He had come to accept the annoying feelings within, but knew he knew he would never act upon them. To act upon them would be the ultimate dishonor.
He gave a slight nod, grunting softly in reply to her question.
Bulma sent a small smile his way before turning back to the stove and preparing another batch of pancakes.
It was her smile that pierced his stone heart the most. Out of every teasing gesture she sent his way, it was that honest and innocent smile that always made him freeze and then shudder in an estranged shudder. It was as if she was purposely taunting him, humiliating him by flaunting something he could never obtain. Her body. There was only so much he could take. Only so much a Prince could let his body take, he needed a release and needed one at that very moment. The sudden urge to take her against the burning stove pumped wildly in his veins. He poised his muscles to stand, almost ready to pounce...
The shrill electronic ring of a phone interrupted his thoughts again. He snarled, turning his head to the foul contraption that humans called a 'phone' that was laying carelessly on the breakfast table. It was a wonder that humans had not gone deaf from having the contraption connected to their ear, but he supposed that Saiyan hearing was far superior to a human's and therefore, did not have such sensitive hearing.
Bulma turned away from the stove and looked at the breakfast table that was a few feet away from where she stood. It was her cell phone. Switching off the gas, she made her way to the table at which Vegeta was inhaling his food and reached out to the small phone. She smiled sweetly at the phone as it flashed blue alongside the ringing, with a name.
'Yamcha'.
As she continued to smile at the flashing name on the phone, she looked up briefly to see Vegeta's face veiled in curiosity and annoyance. She smirked inwardly, knowing that he hated any type of communication device. Ignoring the odd look he was giving her, she eagerly pressed he small green button and brought the phone to her ear.
"Yamcha?" She cried out enthusiastically, she hadn't seen him in over a week, her work getting in the way. It always enthralled her when he phoned her early in the mornings for her wake up call. Not that she needed it, but she looked forward to hearing his voice nonetheless. He was a sweet boy.
She frowned at the thought. Yamcha was definitely a sweet boy, but she wondered if she really wanted a sweet boy. In her mind she had always wanted her prince charming to be dark, handsome and... A man. It was then she realized that Yamcha would always be a sweet boy and remain that way. But he was her sweet boy regardless of anything anyone said about their relationship.
Vegeta scowled heavily as the name flowed from her lips. Who else would have been calling her so early in the morning? He felt the sudden urge to ram his fist into the weakling's ugly head and blast him into the next dimension.
He heard the weakling's name leave Bulma's lips so many time during one of their many passionate evenings in the C.C mansion. Even though his room was on the other side of the mansion, he could still hear her moans and gasps as the pathetic worm did whatever he could to please the woman. Not that it was much anyway.
Many times during the early hours of the morning, he had imagined that it was him causing her to moan and gasp beneath him. But that illusion would always be shattered when she would gasp out the worm's name in the heat of passion.
The thought of another man's hands on his... His what? She was nothing to him! And yet here he was behaving in such a pathetic manner at sickening thought of the human's body pressed against hers in bed.
His power began to bristle around him, threatening to crack the glass breakfast table. Calming his fragile temper, he forced himself to listen to Bulma's one-sided conversation.
"I'm feeling great sweetie, how are you?" Vegeta frowned at the tone of her voice. "Yes, everything is alright, I'm just a little tired... Why?" She paused to chuckle at his obvious concern, "Because Capsule Corporation's trade is in such a high demand that we have orders for products coming out of our ears... I know that we've always been busy but there is more work for me now that Daddy has semi-retired... You know how to rid me of my fatigue? How?"
There was a lengthy pause before a full blown laugh erupted from her chuckle, "I never knew you could have such naughty thoughts!" She whispered huskily, not intending for Vegeta to hear, causing his scowl to deepen considerably as he heard her speak the phrase anyway. "Yes well, we'll see... Tonight? I don't know... There's so much work... I know I need a break, Yamcha," she breathed sadly.
Her face brightened momentarily, "That sounds wonderful! I haven't been to a club in such a long time, I think dancing would be a great remedy for my stress... I'll find a way to do my work tomorrow... Yes I promise to relax today... Great! I'll see you tonight... I'll be ready... I know, I love you too," she whispered.
Walking slowly to the sliding doors that led out to the large garden, she frowned slightly as another strange look thundered upon Vegeta's face. She looked away from him and out of the stained glass doors, shivering as she looked at the swirling gray clouds in the sky. It was in complete contrast to her feelings... So much for her day being a pathetic fallacy.
She smiled at the freshly cut grass that was sparkling with morning early morning dew. She pressed the red button of the phone, clutching it in her hand as she stared out of the window. Another day of life, another reason to survive.
"Woman," the cold voice caused her to jump involuntarily. She turned around and gasped as she found herself eye to eye and nose to nose with an irate Saiyan Prince. He seemed too close for comfort and Bulma could feel the heat radiate of his muscled and taught chest. It was at that point she realized he was clad in nothing but training shorts, with a towel draped around his neck. If she didn't know any better, she would have found him the tiniest bit enticing.
"Yes?" She asked, gulping at the odd anger flashing in his eyes.
"You will not go anywhere this evening." Vegeta growled, narrowing his eyes dangerously.
Her temper flared, "Why the hell not?" She shouted, unaware of the lust and desire that flared in the Prince, hidden in Vegeta's obsidian depths, as she fought back. No physical strength whatsoever, yet they were equal in the strength of mentality. Vegeta never knew there was a single person to match his fiery temper, but this woman fit the bill to tee.
"Gravity room," he said quietly, maintaining the facade of rage upon his face.
Her eyes widened in understanding. "You broke it again?" She cried in exasperation. Bulma unconsciously tugged at the two open halves of her red kimono silk robe, that was embroidered and dotted with intricate oriental flowers. A draft caused her to pull the ties tightly to stop the cold wind reaching her scantily clad body beneath.
Vegeta noticed this movement, even though Bulma was unaware of it. "Fix it." He demanded in his most menacing tone.
Bulma rolled her eyes, "No wonder you decided to have breakfast in the presence of someone who is so beneath you!" She muttered sarcastically.
He smirked, "You said it, not me." He waved his hand, as if dismissing her. "No matter, I suppose I shall have to turn to you for food since your idiot mother is not here. It is to be expected. But you will fix the machine before you do anything that qualifies as 'taking a break'." He sneered down at her before stepping away from her heated body and storming towards the door that led into one of the many passageways of the mansion.
Bulma watched him go in contempt as she felt her body shaking in anger. "FIX IT YOURSELF!" She screamed at his retreating back. The close proximity of his body seemed to have had a strange impact on her sharp mind, thus causing her to retaliate meagerly with the Saiyan Prince. She shivered again at the odd draft of cold air that rushed through the kitchen.
He stopped at the entrance of the doorway as she screamed after him. Not looking back at her, he smirked to himself. She had the heat of a thousand temperamental Saiyan females. He turned his head minutely, looking at her from the corner of his eye and giving her a profile view of his face.
"You know what happened the last time you didn't fix the machine," he chided quietly as he noticed her face turn a paler shade than white. He held back a chuckle as he saw her shiver again. "I suggest you put on a decent amount of clothing under that robe, you may catch one of the many viruses you humans always spew out." With that said, he marched out of the kitchen, leaving an extremely bewildered woman behind.
Bulma hugged herself, shivering from a feeling she could not place. She blushed furiously at his parting words and tried to force herself to move from the confines of the kitchen. She thought back to the time she had not repaired his precious gravity room. The worker that had been repairing it seemed to have a heart-attack just from Vegeta's intimidating presence. Granted that he was old, she couldn't take the risk of letting the Saiyan Prince near anyone other than herself and the people that were already acquainted with him. She sighed and stared at the swirling gray clouds.
It was going to be a long day.
~*~
Vegeta went straight from the kitchen to his own living quarters. He desperately needed a cold shower. It was a good thing that the woman was too dense to realize his obvious attraction to her. Without hesitation, he stepped into the cold shower and let the cold spray pelt his skin.
He closed his eyes in frustration.
She was doing something strange to him, causing him to feel. He didn't like it one bit. But what could he do?! His mind raced as he thought of different scenarios to rid himself of the strange desire to possess her. She meant nothing to him, nothing at all! So then why was he forcing himself away from her? He could easily subdue her, have his fill and leave.
But that thought disgusted him to no end. It would bring him no pleasure to learn he had caused her pain.
After his shower, he resolved that he would meditate until the GR was fixed by them woman. At least then he would be able to escape any thoughts of her.
~*~
Bulma tried despondently to wipe away the irritating grease from her right cheek. She had no clue as to why she had agreed to fix the machine for the obnoxious Prince. In normal circumstances, she would have bared her teeth and thrown innumerable insults his way when he demanded she fix the machine. But today had been different. Today, as she stared into the strange fire burning in his eyes, her speech had been rendered incompetent.
So here she was now, laying flat on her back, under the control panel of the GR,fixing his damn machine. She had no clue as to what she would find when she entered the room but it was safe to say she had been shocked. He trained at such an intensity that even Bulma couldn't fathom where he received his drive from.
She rotated her wrist carefully, twisting the bolt alongside the mass of wires. When she had entered the GR, she had found practically every corner that had wires, completely burned and sizzled to the core. She had to replace every single one of them in their different breaker boxes. It was a miracle that he had managed to burn every single power box in the GR with his ki blasts and yet other parts of the GR had remained unscathed.
It was very odd indeed.
She sighed again as her nimble fingers processed the wires above her. In the background, she heard the door click open and shut. Heavy footsteps echoed in the GR as they approached her legs that were sticking out from under the control panel. Fixing the final wire in place, she rolled out from beneath and found herself staring up at none other than the Saiyan Prince.
"What do you want?" She asked, more irate than she had ever been before.
"Is it done?" He barked. Vegeta felt as though he was about to internally combust if he did not work off the nervous energy she caused to stir within him.
Bulma nodded slightly before picking herself off the floor and out of the compromising position she was in. "No thanks to you!" She snapped back, completely in control of her motor and verbal skills. She felt much more comfortable being with Vegeta in her baggy jeans overalls and black bandana that was pulling her hair from her face.
"Why must you insist on breaking everything in the GR? If it's not the droids, it's the control panel or even causing ruptures in the fucking walls! Honestly Vegeta, sometimes I think you do it on purpose. No one person could be so careless or destructive. Are you listening to me?" She shrieked.
About halfway through Bulma's tantrum, Vegeta had found himself zoning out and simply staring at her face. He noticed the way her eyes brightened when she was angry and darkened when she was happy.
It was an odd combination of color for emotions, but it seemed right for her. Her eyes always came to life when they depicted any form of anger of passion... Any intense emotion for that matter. He trailed his eyes down to her inviting lips, imagining if they would taste as venomous as the words that left her mouth. It would certainly be interesting to find out.
Snapping out of his trance, he glared at her. "Get out, now."
"WHAT?"
"Your service is no longer needed. Get out. I have wasted enough time meditating all day and wish to return to my physical training."
She gaped at him like a fish. If the situation wasn't so serious, she would have laughed at her expression just then. "I can't believe you-!" She screamed but cut herself off in shock. "Wait a minute, all day? What time is it?"
Vegeta frowned, "Eight."
"Shit!" She balled her fist up as she approached the Saiyan Prince. Without warning, she let her fist fly and connect in a solid thump against his shoulder.
This action didn't hurt Vegeta, but surprised him that she had the gall to initiate physical contact with him. He felt his skin burn as her bare knuckles brush against his shoulder. Vegeta narrowed his eyes as he saw her pale considerably. However, her appearance contradicted the confident tone of her voice.
"I was supposed to meet Yamcha at our favorite restaurant and hour ago!" She hissed, cradling her throbbing fist. "And now because of you, my whole day of relaxation has been ruined and I have to face Yamcha like this!" She gestured frantically at her disheveled opinion.
"It is not my fault you do not know how to keep time," he said aloofly, secretly pleased she would be late for the stupid courtship ritual humans called 'a date'. He glared at the sparkling blue eyes that were currently spitting poisoned daggers at him.
"You are unbelievable!" Bulma whispered, ready to kill the man before her. "You are scum Vegeta. No, you're lower than scum. I can't believe you didn't have an ounce of decency to tell me of the time, but you insult me on top of it!" Not only did he force her to fix his stupid machine, but he did not even bother to inform her of the time!
"Dramatics does not suit you, woman. That pathetic weakling is lucky you will not meet with him in this rage. He may have to feel the wrath of an extremely pissed off bitch." He smirked suggestively.
Bulma sputtered to find the words to retaliate with. "You insufferable son of a bitch!"
Unable to look at his gloating face any longer she shook her head before pulling the binding bandana from her head.
A fountain of blue curls tumbled down from its prison.
Bulma whirled around and proceeded to scramble out of the GR, hoping she had enough time for a shower, in time to see if Yamcha was still at the restaurant. She frowned as blue curls flew past her vision. She noted to herself never to let her mother interfere with the matter of her hair.
Her mother had insisted she get a perm, but it turned out to be nothing more than a ball of fluff. It looked hideous and Bulma felt completely depressed at the state of her usually beautiful hair. Now, after continuous washing, she was relieved to catch glimpses of her hair relax and turn into luxurious curls.
She had to admit it was better than having a puff ball on her head. Bulma clenched her teeth, her good mood completely ruined. She never knew how one man could be such a thorn in her side. The sooner he was gone, the better.
Vegeta snarled as the door slid shut behind Bulma, leaving him unable to respond to her parting comment.
He stalked over to the control panel and let his fingers fly across the keys. "Damn woman," he muttered under his breath. He looked up as the bright light faded and was replaced with a red tinge, alongside a hum as the machine whirred to life.
He instantly felt the pressure build upon his shoulders and Vegeta let a feral smirk fall across his face. All thoughts of the blue-haired woman were gone, replaced with the desire to reach a new pinnacle of strength.
It was in this room that Vegeta found his escape from the infernal woman.
It was his sanctuary.
~*~
The crickets of the night chirped as Vegeta stepped out of the GR, a towel draped across his bare shoulders. He had trained non-stop from eight until four in the morning. He secretly hoped that Bulma had not returned to the mansion with her worm of a mate.
Relishing the crunch of grass under his feet, he trudged wearily to the stained glass doors of the kitchen as his stomach rumbled embarrassingly. He had never trained so hard as he had that night. He didn't know what it was, but something was nagging him. His eyes rounded as the thought of guilt cropped up in his mind. Surely it could not be guilt for making the woman feel bad!
He began to growl out in the dark but stopped short as he saw a shadowed figure curled up in the chair, sniffling quietly. He frowned wondering what was going on. Vegeta tentatively sniffed the air, almost snarling as he caught the scent of Bulma's weakling mate all over her body. But it wasn't a mating scent he picked up... It was more of a brotherly scent. He frowned at the development.
"Woman." He forced himself to speak. She raised her head and he found himself staring into a pair of tearful sapphire eyes. Something in his heart strained, as though it were being pulled apart by the sight of the upset woman.
Bulma heard her voice and looked up in surprise. She had thought Vegeta would have been in bed at this time of day, well, she had hoped he would have been asleep. She didn't need his snide comments at present.
"Go away," she muttered as she looked away from his piercing stare. She carefully wiped away the thin streaks of tears that fell down her cheeks.
"This public domain. I will not leave, especially at your command. No one orders a Prince around, got it?" He found himself snapping back, not liking the look of her crestfallen face.
She sighed, what was she to expect from such an insensitive man? Bulma was in no mood to fight at that moment and so she retreated from her demands. He had won, for now. She realized that this would be the perfect excuse to shy away from the painful emotions coursing through her veins.
"What would you like to eat?" She asked unexpectedly.
He stared at her as if she had just grown a ten foot long purple horn from her forehead. Bulma giggled to herself as she squinted in the darkness. It was not too dark to hide the emotions that flitted across Vegeta's normally impassive face.
"Stop laughing," he snarled.
Bulma smiled at him openly. She never knew until that moment, just how hilarious Vegeta could actually be. "Sorry," she said, sobering up quickly. "What would you like to eat?" She asked again, hoping he did not see her eyes linger on the taut corded muscles that rippled in his chest.
Vegeta grunted and seated himself at the round breakfast table. "You are willing to cook?" He asked, a little perplexed.
Bulma rolled her eyes as she stood, clapping her hands so that the lights of the kitchen flooded on. Vegeta raised a thick eyebrow at the large T- shirt that she was clothed in, clearly not hers.
"No, I am going to snap my finger and magically make the food appear!" She retorted, enjoying the frustrated look on his face.
"Get on with it then. I'd like to have my food preferably before the Androids arrive."
At that statement, Bulma's face clouded over in hurt and she promptly burst into tears again. Vegeta almost felt his jaw drop as he watched the tears stream down her face. Now what had he said?! "Woman," he snapped, "Stop your squalling this instant. It is unbecoming of someone strong willed."
Bulma instantly stopped and sniffled. "Sorry," she whispered as she lowered her eyes to the tiled floor. Wait... Had he just given her a compliment? Bulma felt endeared at the comment he made, albeit a forced comment.
She rushed over to him and kneeled down on the floor beside the chair he sat in. She looked up in desperation as she placed her hand on his knee cap, unaware at the sudden tense stance that Vegeta's body took and the strange gleam in his eyes. She bit her lip, wondering if she was doing the right thing in talking with the proud Saiyan Prince. "I'm scared..." She said quietly.
"Of?" Vegeta felt his breath catch in his throat as her soft hand rested upon his shin. He looked down into her eyes, wondering what he was getting himself into.
Bulma took a deep breath, knowing she was about to let her soul bare in front of a man who could care less. "Do you know what Yamcha said to me tonight?" She didn't wait for an answer as she continued, secretly noting how Vegeta's eyes darkened in anger at the mention of Yamcha's name. "He told me, that he knew he wouldn't survive against the Androids." She said quietly. Sighing, she stood from her kneeling position and stood swiftly. Her voice had taken on a bitter tone. "We had an amazing evening... I swear I was going to burst from happiness just being with him!"
Vegeta winced inwardly at her choice of words.
"He loves me with all of his heart Vegeta..." she trailed off wistfully.
"Then why the fuck are you blubbering!" He snapped, not wanting to be part of this conversation any longer.
"He said it was because of this love that he was letting me go... Letting me go." Bulma repeated the painful words, frowning all the while.
A burst of hope erupted within the Saiyan Prince. Maybe, just maybe...
Bulma continued speaking as she walked around the kitchen gathering ingredients to make pasta for a hungry Saiyan, oblivious to the look of possession that crossed Vegeta's face. "He said he didn't want me to go through the pain I had already encountered when he died from the fight with the Saibaman. He wanted a clean break, knowing that I would be better off if I didn't go through the pain of losing him again, saying that he didn't want to leave me alone in pain..." She sighed at the finality of their last conversation. "I suppose in a way, he is right." She threw in spices and herbs into the sizzling oil, her back turned away from the Prince. She snorted, "He said he couldn't protect me if the Androids came to harm me and said he would never forgive himself if I was killed because he couldn't save me... The Androids have us all afraid, even Yamcha." She turned back to the silent Prince.
"But you don't feel scared do you?" She asked softly.
Vegeta felt himself drowning in the never-ending depths of blue. "Saiyans do not fear anything." He said mechanically, suddenly restraining himself from taking her there and then. Now that her imbecile of a mate was no longer in the picture, he could make his move. Right?
Bulma chewed thoughtfully in her lower lip as she stared into his eyes from the stove. "I wish I was a Saiyan," she murmured, "Perhaps then I wouldn't be so afraid."
Vegeta felt his body react to her voice, causing him to stand and walk over to her. Every part of his mind was screaming at him to stop, knowing that what he was about to do was wrong. Completely and utterly wrong.
But he had to rid her from his system, for she had somehow managed to worm her way into his heart. If he did this then all thoughts and feeling for her could be discarded.
After all;
It was just an obsession. Right?
~*~
AN: End of Chapter One! What is Vegeta going to do to Bulma?! Hopefully nothing bad... But you never know with me. How was that? Left you wanting more? Let me know if I should continue!
*Heartless*
Disclaimer: Don't own DBZ, however characters you've never heard of *are mine* so steer clear or you'll be in for a bruisin'... Unless you ask permission of course *smirks*.
~*~
Every corner he turned, she was there. Right in front of his face, her skin glowing like the angel she was, she was there.
Every gesture, movement and soft spoken word she sent his way, seemed to drive the Saiyan Prince insane. Insane with desire. It was strange, for he had never felt this way before, not about any other female he had encountered on his journeys in space and especially when he was in the clutches of the lizard bastard that was named Frieza.
The entire thought had been completely ridiculous to him, yet here he was having unknown feelings rage inside of him every time she entered the same room as him, or even when she cast him a sideways glance for a mere second.
That second seemed to stretch on for eternity in Vegeta's mind. He was not used to having these feelings inside him, had no clue how to dissipate the churning in his stomach every time she was near
She was becoming an obsession. That's what it was, he argued with himself, to put a name to fire that burned inside his heart.
An obsession;
One that he would just have to ride out.
~*~
"Vegeta."
A soft voice interrupted his thoughts. He scowled and looked to the owner of the voice, momentarily shocked that he had lost himself deep in thought in the presence of... Her.
He was always in awe at how his name sounded so soft against her lips. The three syllables of his name sounded so sweet as they left her pouted lips that he wondered how she would speak his name beneath him in bed, as he drove into her with the force of a-
"What?" He snapped, wincing inwardly at the harsh tone of his voice. He could never act civil in her company and secretly wondered if the strange churning of his stomach had anything to do with it.
Bulma stared at the older man for a moment. He seemed to have been lost in thought for a split second and seemed inconceivably annoyed at having his train of thought interrupted.
"Sorry," she murmured quietly, wondering why he was staring at her face so intently and why his own face seemed to take on a strange red hue. He had been simply staring at her more than needed recently and it was extremely unnerving for her.
"I just wanted to know if you wanted any more pancakes," she said, clearing her throat as she shifted her weight to her other foot, holding the flat pan steadily in her hand by the long handle. Normally, she would have replied to his harsh tone with one of her waspish remarks, but she could feel that something was different that day. She just couldn't figure out exactly what.
Vegeta tilted his head in amusement. He had never seen her donning an apron before that morning. Suffice to say, she looked rather endearing. He smirked inwardly as he thought of how she would react if he ripped it right from her lithe body. He had come to accept the annoying feelings within, but knew he knew he would never act upon them. To act upon them would be the ultimate dishonor.
He gave a slight nod, grunting softly in reply to her question.
Bulma sent a small smile his way before turning back to the stove and preparing another batch of pancakes.
It was her smile that pierced his stone heart the most. Out of every teasing gesture she sent his way, it was that honest and innocent smile that always made him freeze and then shudder in an estranged shudder. It was as if she was purposely taunting him, humiliating him by flaunting something he could never obtain. Her body. There was only so much he could take. Only so much a Prince could let his body take, he needed a release and needed one at that very moment. The sudden urge to take her against the burning stove pumped wildly in his veins. He poised his muscles to stand, almost ready to pounce...
The shrill electronic ring of a phone interrupted his thoughts again. He snarled, turning his head to the foul contraption that humans called a 'phone' that was laying carelessly on the breakfast table. It was a wonder that humans had not gone deaf from having the contraption connected to their ear, but he supposed that Saiyan hearing was far superior to a human's and therefore, did not have such sensitive hearing.
Bulma turned away from the stove and looked at the breakfast table that was a few feet away from where she stood. It was her cell phone. Switching off the gas, she made her way to the table at which Vegeta was inhaling his food and reached out to the small phone. She smiled sweetly at the phone as it flashed blue alongside the ringing, with a name.
'Yamcha'.
As she continued to smile at the flashing name on the phone, she looked up briefly to see Vegeta's face veiled in curiosity and annoyance. She smirked inwardly, knowing that he hated any type of communication device. Ignoring the odd look he was giving her, she eagerly pressed he small green button and brought the phone to her ear.
"Yamcha?" She cried out enthusiastically, she hadn't seen him in over a week, her work getting in the way. It always enthralled her when he phoned her early in the mornings for her wake up call. Not that she needed it, but she looked forward to hearing his voice nonetheless. He was a sweet boy.
She frowned at the thought. Yamcha was definitely a sweet boy, but she wondered if she really wanted a sweet boy. In her mind she had always wanted her prince charming to be dark, handsome and... A man. It was then she realized that Yamcha would always be a sweet boy and remain that way. But he was her sweet boy regardless of anything anyone said about their relationship.
Vegeta scowled heavily as the name flowed from her lips. Who else would have been calling her so early in the morning? He felt the sudden urge to ram his fist into the weakling's ugly head and blast him into the next dimension.
He heard the weakling's name leave Bulma's lips so many time during one of their many passionate evenings in the C.C mansion. Even though his room was on the other side of the mansion, he could still hear her moans and gasps as the pathetic worm did whatever he could to please the woman. Not that it was much anyway.
Many times during the early hours of the morning, he had imagined that it was him causing her to moan and gasp beneath him. But that illusion would always be shattered when she would gasp out the worm's name in the heat of passion.
The thought of another man's hands on his... His what? She was nothing to him! And yet here he was behaving in such a pathetic manner at sickening thought of the human's body pressed against hers in bed.
His power began to bristle around him, threatening to crack the glass breakfast table. Calming his fragile temper, he forced himself to listen to Bulma's one-sided conversation.
"I'm feeling great sweetie, how are you?" Vegeta frowned at the tone of her voice. "Yes, everything is alright, I'm just a little tired... Why?" She paused to chuckle at his obvious concern, "Because Capsule Corporation's trade is in such a high demand that we have orders for products coming out of our ears... I know that we've always been busy but there is more work for me now that Daddy has semi-retired... You know how to rid me of my fatigue? How?"
There was a lengthy pause before a full blown laugh erupted from her chuckle, "I never knew you could have such naughty thoughts!" She whispered huskily, not intending for Vegeta to hear, causing his scowl to deepen considerably as he heard her speak the phrase anyway. "Yes well, we'll see... Tonight? I don't know... There's so much work... I know I need a break, Yamcha," she breathed sadly.
Her face brightened momentarily, "That sounds wonderful! I haven't been to a club in such a long time, I think dancing would be a great remedy for my stress... I'll find a way to do my work tomorrow... Yes I promise to relax today... Great! I'll see you tonight... I'll be ready... I know, I love you too," she whispered.
Walking slowly to the sliding doors that led out to the large garden, she frowned slightly as another strange look thundered upon Vegeta's face. She looked away from him and out of the stained glass doors, shivering as she looked at the swirling gray clouds in the sky. It was in complete contrast to her feelings... So much for her day being a pathetic fallacy.
She smiled at the freshly cut grass that was sparkling with morning early morning dew. She pressed the red button of the phone, clutching it in her hand as she stared out of the window. Another day of life, another reason to survive.
"Woman," the cold voice caused her to jump involuntarily. She turned around and gasped as she found herself eye to eye and nose to nose with an irate Saiyan Prince. He seemed too close for comfort and Bulma could feel the heat radiate of his muscled and taught chest. It was at that point she realized he was clad in nothing but training shorts, with a towel draped around his neck. If she didn't know any better, she would have found him the tiniest bit enticing.
"Yes?" She asked, gulping at the odd anger flashing in his eyes.
"You will not go anywhere this evening." Vegeta growled, narrowing his eyes dangerously.
Her temper flared, "Why the hell not?" She shouted, unaware of the lust and desire that flared in the Prince, hidden in Vegeta's obsidian depths, as she fought back. No physical strength whatsoever, yet they were equal in the strength of mentality. Vegeta never knew there was a single person to match his fiery temper, but this woman fit the bill to tee.
"Gravity room," he said quietly, maintaining the facade of rage upon his face.
Her eyes widened in understanding. "You broke it again?" She cried in exasperation. Bulma unconsciously tugged at the two open halves of her red kimono silk robe, that was embroidered and dotted with intricate oriental flowers. A draft caused her to pull the ties tightly to stop the cold wind reaching her scantily clad body beneath.
Vegeta noticed this movement, even though Bulma was unaware of it. "Fix it." He demanded in his most menacing tone.
Bulma rolled her eyes, "No wonder you decided to have breakfast in the presence of someone who is so beneath you!" She muttered sarcastically.
He smirked, "You said it, not me." He waved his hand, as if dismissing her. "No matter, I suppose I shall have to turn to you for food since your idiot mother is not here. It is to be expected. But you will fix the machine before you do anything that qualifies as 'taking a break'." He sneered down at her before stepping away from her heated body and storming towards the door that led into one of the many passageways of the mansion.
Bulma watched him go in contempt as she felt her body shaking in anger. "FIX IT YOURSELF!" She screamed at his retreating back. The close proximity of his body seemed to have had a strange impact on her sharp mind, thus causing her to retaliate meagerly with the Saiyan Prince. She shivered again at the odd draft of cold air that rushed through the kitchen.
He stopped at the entrance of the doorway as she screamed after him. Not looking back at her, he smirked to himself. She had the heat of a thousand temperamental Saiyan females. He turned his head minutely, looking at her from the corner of his eye and giving her a profile view of his face.
"You know what happened the last time you didn't fix the machine," he chided quietly as he noticed her face turn a paler shade than white. He held back a chuckle as he saw her shiver again. "I suggest you put on a decent amount of clothing under that robe, you may catch one of the many viruses you humans always spew out." With that said, he marched out of the kitchen, leaving an extremely bewildered woman behind.
Bulma hugged herself, shivering from a feeling she could not place. She blushed furiously at his parting words and tried to force herself to move from the confines of the kitchen. She thought back to the time she had not repaired his precious gravity room. The worker that had been repairing it seemed to have a heart-attack just from Vegeta's intimidating presence. Granted that he was old, she couldn't take the risk of letting the Saiyan Prince near anyone other than herself and the people that were already acquainted with him. She sighed and stared at the swirling gray clouds.
It was going to be a long day.
~*~
Vegeta went straight from the kitchen to his own living quarters. He desperately needed a cold shower. It was a good thing that the woman was too dense to realize his obvious attraction to her. Without hesitation, he stepped into the cold shower and let the cold spray pelt his skin.
He closed his eyes in frustration.
She was doing something strange to him, causing him to feel. He didn't like it one bit. But what could he do?! His mind raced as he thought of different scenarios to rid himself of the strange desire to possess her. She meant nothing to him, nothing at all! So then why was he forcing himself away from her? He could easily subdue her, have his fill and leave.
But that thought disgusted him to no end. It would bring him no pleasure to learn he had caused her pain.
After his shower, he resolved that he would meditate until the GR was fixed by them woman. At least then he would be able to escape any thoughts of her.
~*~
Bulma tried despondently to wipe away the irritating grease from her right cheek. She had no clue as to why she had agreed to fix the machine for the obnoxious Prince. In normal circumstances, she would have bared her teeth and thrown innumerable insults his way when he demanded she fix the machine. But today had been different. Today, as she stared into the strange fire burning in his eyes, her speech had been rendered incompetent.
So here she was now, laying flat on her back, under the control panel of the GR,fixing his damn machine. She had no clue as to what she would find when she entered the room but it was safe to say she had been shocked. He trained at such an intensity that even Bulma couldn't fathom where he received his drive from.
She rotated her wrist carefully, twisting the bolt alongside the mass of wires. When she had entered the GR, she had found practically every corner that had wires, completely burned and sizzled to the core. She had to replace every single one of them in their different breaker boxes. It was a miracle that he had managed to burn every single power box in the GR with his ki blasts and yet other parts of the GR had remained unscathed.
It was very odd indeed.
She sighed again as her nimble fingers processed the wires above her. In the background, she heard the door click open and shut. Heavy footsteps echoed in the GR as they approached her legs that were sticking out from under the control panel. Fixing the final wire in place, she rolled out from beneath and found herself staring up at none other than the Saiyan Prince.
"What do you want?" She asked, more irate than she had ever been before.
"Is it done?" He barked. Vegeta felt as though he was about to internally combust if he did not work off the nervous energy she caused to stir within him.
Bulma nodded slightly before picking herself off the floor and out of the compromising position she was in. "No thanks to you!" She snapped back, completely in control of her motor and verbal skills. She felt much more comfortable being with Vegeta in her baggy jeans overalls and black bandana that was pulling her hair from her face.
"Why must you insist on breaking everything in the GR? If it's not the droids, it's the control panel or even causing ruptures in the fucking walls! Honestly Vegeta, sometimes I think you do it on purpose. No one person could be so careless or destructive. Are you listening to me?" She shrieked.
About halfway through Bulma's tantrum, Vegeta had found himself zoning out and simply staring at her face. He noticed the way her eyes brightened when she was angry and darkened when she was happy.
It was an odd combination of color for emotions, but it seemed right for her. Her eyes always came to life when they depicted any form of anger of passion... Any intense emotion for that matter. He trailed his eyes down to her inviting lips, imagining if they would taste as venomous as the words that left her mouth. It would certainly be interesting to find out.
Snapping out of his trance, he glared at her. "Get out, now."
"WHAT?"
"Your service is no longer needed. Get out. I have wasted enough time meditating all day and wish to return to my physical training."
She gaped at him like a fish. If the situation wasn't so serious, she would have laughed at her expression just then. "I can't believe you-!" She screamed but cut herself off in shock. "Wait a minute, all day? What time is it?"
Vegeta frowned, "Eight."
"Shit!" She balled her fist up as she approached the Saiyan Prince. Without warning, she let her fist fly and connect in a solid thump against his shoulder.
This action didn't hurt Vegeta, but surprised him that she had the gall to initiate physical contact with him. He felt his skin burn as her bare knuckles brush against his shoulder. Vegeta narrowed his eyes as he saw her pale considerably. However, her appearance contradicted the confident tone of her voice.
"I was supposed to meet Yamcha at our favorite restaurant and hour ago!" She hissed, cradling her throbbing fist. "And now because of you, my whole day of relaxation has been ruined and I have to face Yamcha like this!" She gestured frantically at her disheveled opinion.
"It is not my fault you do not know how to keep time," he said aloofly, secretly pleased she would be late for the stupid courtship ritual humans called 'a date'. He glared at the sparkling blue eyes that were currently spitting poisoned daggers at him.
"You are unbelievable!" Bulma whispered, ready to kill the man before her. "You are scum Vegeta. No, you're lower than scum. I can't believe you didn't have an ounce of decency to tell me of the time, but you insult me on top of it!" Not only did he force her to fix his stupid machine, but he did not even bother to inform her of the time!
"Dramatics does not suit you, woman. That pathetic weakling is lucky you will not meet with him in this rage. He may have to feel the wrath of an extremely pissed off bitch." He smirked suggestively.
Bulma sputtered to find the words to retaliate with. "You insufferable son of a bitch!"
Unable to look at his gloating face any longer she shook her head before pulling the binding bandana from her head.
A fountain of blue curls tumbled down from its prison.
Bulma whirled around and proceeded to scramble out of the GR, hoping she had enough time for a shower, in time to see if Yamcha was still at the restaurant. She frowned as blue curls flew past her vision. She noted to herself never to let her mother interfere with the matter of her hair.
Her mother had insisted she get a perm, but it turned out to be nothing more than a ball of fluff. It looked hideous and Bulma felt completely depressed at the state of her usually beautiful hair. Now, after continuous washing, she was relieved to catch glimpses of her hair relax and turn into luxurious curls.
She had to admit it was better than having a puff ball on her head. Bulma clenched her teeth, her good mood completely ruined. She never knew how one man could be such a thorn in her side. The sooner he was gone, the better.
Vegeta snarled as the door slid shut behind Bulma, leaving him unable to respond to her parting comment.
He stalked over to the control panel and let his fingers fly across the keys. "Damn woman," he muttered under his breath. He looked up as the bright light faded and was replaced with a red tinge, alongside a hum as the machine whirred to life.
He instantly felt the pressure build upon his shoulders and Vegeta let a feral smirk fall across his face. All thoughts of the blue-haired woman were gone, replaced with the desire to reach a new pinnacle of strength.
It was in this room that Vegeta found his escape from the infernal woman.
It was his sanctuary.
~*~
The crickets of the night chirped as Vegeta stepped out of the GR, a towel draped across his bare shoulders. He had trained non-stop from eight until four in the morning. He secretly hoped that Bulma had not returned to the mansion with her worm of a mate.
Relishing the crunch of grass under his feet, he trudged wearily to the stained glass doors of the kitchen as his stomach rumbled embarrassingly. He had never trained so hard as he had that night. He didn't know what it was, but something was nagging him. His eyes rounded as the thought of guilt cropped up in his mind. Surely it could not be guilt for making the woman feel bad!
He began to growl out in the dark but stopped short as he saw a shadowed figure curled up in the chair, sniffling quietly. He frowned wondering what was going on. Vegeta tentatively sniffed the air, almost snarling as he caught the scent of Bulma's weakling mate all over her body. But it wasn't a mating scent he picked up... It was more of a brotherly scent. He frowned at the development.
"Woman." He forced himself to speak. She raised her head and he found himself staring into a pair of tearful sapphire eyes. Something in his heart strained, as though it were being pulled apart by the sight of the upset woman.
Bulma heard her voice and looked up in surprise. She had thought Vegeta would have been in bed at this time of day, well, she had hoped he would have been asleep. She didn't need his snide comments at present.
"Go away," she muttered as she looked away from his piercing stare. She carefully wiped away the thin streaks of tears that fell down her cheeks.
"This public domain. I will not leave, especially at your command. No one orders a Prince around, got it?" He found himself snapping back, not liking the look of her crestfallen face.
She sighed, what was she to expect from such an insensitive man? Bulma was in no mood to fight at that moment and so she retreated from her demands. He had won, for now. She realized that this would be the perfect excuse to shy away from the painful emotions coursing through her veins.
"What would you like to eat?" She asked unexpectedly.
He stared at her as if she had just grown a ten foot long purple horn from her forehead. Bulma giggled to herself as she squinted in the darkness. It was not too dark to hide the emotions that flitted across Vegeta's normally impassive face.
"Stop laughing," he snarled.
Bulma smiled at him openly. She never knew until that moment, just how hilarious Vegeta could actually be. "Sorry," she said, sobering up quickly. "What would you like to eat?" She asked again, hoping he did not see her eyes linger on the taut corded muscles that rippled in his chest.
Vegeta grunted and seated himself at the round breakfast table. "You are willing to cook?" He asked, a little perplexed.
Bulma rolled her eyes as she stood, clapping her hands so that the lights of the kitchen flooded on. Vegeta raised a thick eyebrow at the large T- shirt that she was clothed in, clearly not hers.
"No, I am going to snap my finger and magically make the food appear!" She retorted, enjoying the frustrated look on his face.
"Get on with it then. I'd like to have my food preferably before the Androids arrive."
At that statement, Bulma's face clouded over in hurt and she promptly burst into tears again. Vegeta almost felt his jaw drop as he watched the tears stream down her face. Now what had he said?! "Woman," he snapped, "Stop your squalling this instant. It is unbecoming of someone strong willed."
Bulma instantly stopped and sniffled. "Sorry," she whispered as she lowered her eyes to the tiled floor. Wait... Had he just given her a compliment? Bulma felt endeared at the comment he made, albeit a forced comment.
She rushed over to him and kneeled down on the floor beside the chair he sat in. She looked up in desperation as she placed her hand on his knee cap, unaware at the sudden tense stance that Vegeta's body took and the strange gleam in his eyes. She bit her lip, wondering if she was doing the right thing in talking with the proud Saiyan Prince. "I'm scared..." She said quietly.
"Of?" Vegeta felt his breath catch in his throat as her soft hand rested upon his shin. He looked down into her eyes, wondering what he was getting himself into.
Bulma took a deep breath, knowing she was about to let her soul bare in front of a man who could care less. "Do you know what Yamcha said to me tonight?" She didn't wait for an answer as she continued, secretly noting how Vegeta's eyes darkened in anger at the mention of Yamcha's name. "He told me, that he knew he wouldn't survive against the Androids." She said quietly. Sighing, she stood from her kneeling position and stood swiftly. Her voice had taken on a bitter tone. "We had an amazing evening... I swear I was going to burst from happiness just being with him!"
Vegeta winced inwardly at her choice of words.
"He loves me with all of his heart Vegeta..." she trailed off wistfully.
"Then why the fuck are you blubbering!" He snapped, not wanting to be part of this conversation any longer.
"He said it was because of this love that he was letting me go... Letting me go." Bulma repeated the painful words, frowning all the while.
A burst of hope erupted within the Saiyan Prince. Maybe, just maybe...
Bulma continued speaking as she walked around the kitchen gathering ingredients to make pasta for a hungry Saiyan, oblivious to the look of possession that crossed Vegeta's face. "He said he didn't want me to go through the pain I had already encountered when he died from the fight with the Saibaman. He wanted a clean break, knowing that I would be better off if I didn't go through the pain of losing him again, saying that he didn't want to leave me alone in pain..." She sighed at the finality of their last conversation. "I suppose in a way, he is right." She threw in spices and herbs into the sizzling oil, her back turned away from the Prince. She snorted, "He said he couldn't protect me if the Androids came to harm me and said he would never forgive himself if I was killed because he couldn't save me... The Androids have us all afraid, even Yamcha." She turned back to the silent Prince.
"But you don't feel scared do you?" She asked softly.
Vegeta felt himself drowning in the never-ending depths of blue. "Saiyans do not fear anything." He said mechanically, suddenly restraining himself from taking her there and then. Now that her imbecile of a mate was no longer in the picture, he could make his move. Right?
Bulma chewed thoughtfully in her lower lip as she stared into his eyes from the stove. "I wish I was a Saiyan," she murmured, "Perhaps then I wouldn't be so afraid."
Vegeta felt his body react to her voice, causing him to stand and walk over to her. Every part of his mind was screaming at him to stop, knowing that what he was about to do was wrong. Completely and utterly wrong.
But he had to rid her from his system, for she had somehow managed to worm her way into his heart. If he did this then all thoughts and feeling for her could be discarded.
After all;
It was just an obsession. Right?
~*~
AN: End of Chapter One! What is Vegeta going to do to Bulma?! Hopefully nothing bad... But you never know with me. How was that? Left you wanting more? Let me know if I should continue!
*Heartless*