BlueMoon Goddess: Alright with the holiday's coming up, I decided why not start by having a holiday themed fanfic! I figured now would be a good time to start that way I'll hope to have the final chapter up on Christmas day or at least before February.

I originally had this as an Inuyasha x Kagome fic. However after re-reading it, I decided to take a leap and make it a Vegeta x Bulma fic. I've been reading Vegeta x Bulma fics for a while so I hope this is good. Of course I will say they might seem OOC, especially Vegeta, but hey its fanfiction so anything goes!

Also this is an AU fic and everyone is human, so no Saiyans or powers or anything of the sort. And I'm not sure what other people use as Vegeta's last name, so I'm using Mallie-3's last name for Vegeta from her stories so hope it's okay.

Anyway sit back, relax, and happy reading for my first Vegeta x Bulma fic!

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Ball Z, it's characters, or 'Candy Christmas' by Adrianne Byrd, which this fic is based on.

Summary: Peace on Earth and goodwill to all men? Not if the man in question is Vegeta Ouji, Bulma's competitor since he started at their ad agency a year ago. But on a business trip to Europe, rivalry gives way to a red-hot, explosive affair that makes her realize that what she really wants for Christmas is right in front of her, just waiting to be unwrapped…..

A giddy Carla Jinn raced through the Christmas decorated office of NuMedias in her black Prada heels and tight pencil skirt. "He's coming. He's coming." She infirmed the ladies in their cubicles.

Practically all of the women whipped out their compact mirrors, added swaths of lipstick and checked to make sure that their various hairdos were picture perfect. Some even added a spritz of perfume. A split second later, the ding of the elevator bay had them all scrambling to put their mirrors and makeup away and cast their eyes toward the elevator doors as they opened in time to see their morning attraction.

Vegeta Ouji lifted his head and strolled into the office dressed in a sharp slate gray suit that fitted his frame to an absolute perfect tee. The man effortlessly oozed sex appeal. Heads swirled, hearts fluttered and panties grew moist as he glided past the company's supermajority female staff. There was something for everyone. Whether you liked a broad chest, powerful legs or a sexy ass, Vegeta had you covered. Without a doubt, he put the "h' in handsome and the "s" in sexy. With his dark eyes that would melt you into a puddle of goo, and black hair that stood up in a flame you just wanted to run your hands through it, he was the very epitome of a Greek god and the definition of fine.

"Morning ladies." He greeted.

"Morning Vegeta!" The women chorused back, cheesing their best smiles.

His lips lifted a bit to reveal a white smile that lit up his entire face. He even tossed a wink to a few lucky women who looked ready to swoon out of their chairs. In NuMedias, Vegeta was, hands down, a bona fide rock star and the female employees were his number one fans.

"Well don't you look lovely this morning Inari?" He said stopping in front of his assistant's desk. "New outfit?"

Inari blushed and fluttered a hand to the top of her sweater. "What, this old thing?" Her gaze caught the price tag hanging from her wrist and she quickly dropped her hand to her lap. "Um, Mr. Ringo scheduled a meeting this morning at ten so I took the liberty of rearranging your nine-thirty for three o'clock."

"I'm sure Ms. Washi was thrilled about that." He joked.

Inari turned up her nose. She couldn't stand the uber-rich femme fatale who tied up her phone line at least six times a day. "Mrs. Washi threw her usual fit because she can't see you when she wants. But I told her to either take the three o'clock or wait until after the Christmas holidays. Needless to say she took the three o'clock opening." Inari discreetly pulled the tag off her sleeve and then handed him his morning messages. "If you ask me, Mrs. Washi is interested in more than just business."

Vegeta's smile stretched wider. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean." He said with a mischievous smirk on his lips.

"Uh-huh."

"Any idea what the ten o'clock meeting is about?" He absently shuffled his morning messages around, trying to pretend that he wasn't anxious to hear who made top sales executive of the year and would most likely get the promotion to VP of sales.

"Well, it is that time of year." She said, seeing through his act. "It could be the big announcement."

He then glanced around the office. "Any word how our main competition has fared yet?"

"Not yet. That camp is keeping their cards close to the vest…but if you ask me…" She leaned forward and whispered. "I think you're finally going to knock Ms. Briefs off the throne."

He shrugged even though his smile grew wider. "I don't know. Briefs has been number one for the past seven years."

"Yeah. But that was before you joined the company. Now there's some real competition and frankly my money is riding on you."

"Don't tell me there's a pool on this."

"Are you kidding? There's a pool on everything in this office."

"I'll keep that in mind." He laughed. "But for the record, I wouldn't be so quick to count her out. The woman is a tiger."

Bulma Briefs breezed through the doors of NuMedias looking like a million bucks in a pleated, houndstooth Victoria coat, large Gucci shades and a pair of Christian Louboutin's that hadn't hit the shelves yet. It had been her philosophy to be number one in both business and style.

"Good morning, Ms. Briefs." Wendi, the front desk receptionist, greeted her with a smile and a half nod.

Bulma waved in acknowledgment and continued with the conversation that was buzzing in her Bluetooth. "No. Mr. Renjiro, I'm all over it. I'll have my assistant, Kin, send those proposals over to you within the hour by courier. Trust me, you're going to be thrilled with the final product." She stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for the top floor.

Just before the door closed, a team of men in blue suits crowded in behind her. "Good morning, Ms. Briefs." They greeted her in synchronized precision.

She pressed the mute button on her Bluetooth and flashed them all a sweet smile. "Good morning, gentlemen." She said in her best feminine purr.

Each one of them beamed smiles back at her like eager puppies, starving for her attention. She enjoyed her power over the opposite sex. It was an art form that she'd spent years perfecting and putting to good use her entire career. And why not? If men insisted on thinking with the wrong head, why not use it to one's advantage?

The elevator's bell dinged a second time before the door slid open. "You all have a good day." She said sweetly and then sauntered out of the small compartment with a little extra swing to her hips.

"You too, Ms. Briefs."

Bulma caught the few eye rolls and head shaking from a few dozen women in their cubicles. Hypocrites, each and every one of them. She'd seen how they all fawned and swooned over that self-absorbed, conceited playboy Vegeta Ouji. They, along with half his client list, made fools of themselves hanging on his every word and blushing like know-nothing teenagers whenever he dropped platitudes or phony compliments. She, on the other hand, saw straight through him whenever he turned his so-called charm on her. The eye-winking, the slow, deliberate way he licked his lips or how he would purposely invade a woman's personal space so that his masculine scent permeated your senses so that he could try and seduce his way into whatever he wanted.

She knew that playbook.

Hell, she wrote it.

"Morning, Kin." She said, breezing past her desk. "Call the courier. I need you to send that final proposal over to Mr. Renjiro's office pronto." She tapped her earpiece. "Mr. Renjiro? Yes. I've arranged everything. We can reconnect in one hour."

"You're the best." Renjiro said.

"That's what you're paying for." She volleyed back and then disconnected the call.

Behind her, Kin marched in with a smile and Bulma's morning order of a tall half-skinny, half-one percent, extra hot spilt quad shot, two shots expresso, two shots regular latte with whipped cream. "Here you go. I already called the courier service when I first came in this morning. They should be here any minute now."

"Great." Bulma whipped off her shades, sat her briefcase down and peeled out of her coat before accepting her latte. "Have you tracked down Tao Anderson yet?"

"Still on it." Kin grimaced. "I swear that the man is worse than Carmen Santiago."

"That may be, but we need to find him. Landing an account with his company, any account will be like a cherry on top for that VP position." Bulma took her first sip of coffee and sighed as her morning caffeine fix immediately started to settle her nerves.

"Speaking of which." Kin said. "I had to rearrange your calendar today. Mr. Ringo called for a ten o'clock meeting."

Bulma's mind raced. "Any clue what it's about?"

"None." Kin glanced over her shoulder to double-check that they were alone in Bulma's posh corner office and still elected to lower her voice. "I did hear some speculation in the break room that Mr. Ringo has made a decision on the VP position and he wants to announce it early before Christmas break."

"Really?" Bulma leaned back in her executive leather chair with a sly grin. "Have you crunched our numbers?"

Kin looked downright giddy. "1.8 billion. Five percent higher than last year's total. We're a shoe-in."

Despite the good news, Bulma shook her head. "Don't count our chickens before they're hatched. Any clue how he's doing?" She didn't say his name because she'd made it a rule never to utter that slick devil's name in her office, the one who had all the women in the office losing their minds.

Mr. Hot Shot. Mr. Know-It-All. And Mr. Pain-in-the-Ass. Well, at least in her ass. From the moment he'd walked through the doors of NuMedias, it seemed that everyone at the company could talk of little else. In a way, it was sort of understandable. In his short time at the company, he'd completely shaken up the game. Landing and closing big advertising accounts with what seemed like little or no effort at all. Now he was nipping at her heels and threatening everything she'd worked for.

After seven years of being on top at this company, the VP position should've been a no-brainer. Instead, Mr. Ringo, who'd seemed just as hoodwinked as his female employees, spent boys night out at ball games, cigar bars and gentlemen clubs with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named on a regular.

"I don't have any solid number." Kin said. "But I know that sneaky assistant of his has been nosing around lately trying to find out our numbers."

"Oh really?" Bulma took another healthy gulp of her coffee. "That means that he thinks he actually has a shot of winning this." She shook her head. "Bastard."

A knock had both women jerking their head toward the open door. A young lanky-framed man removed the earplugs to his iPod from his ears. "I'm here to pick up a package?"

"Right." Kin strolled out of the office to retrieve the package for Renjiro, leaving Bulma to churn this latest information inside her head and more importantly, to try to guess what was going on in Vegeta Ouji's head, because in the end only one of them could be on top.

Vegeta strolled into the conference room along with a few other ad executives. All of them slapping him on the back and congratulating him on his presumed promotion.

"Man, you got this in the bank." Raditz, a fifteen-year employee, boasted. "Believe me when I say that you're our hero."

A murmur of agreement encircled Vegeta as a few more pounds his back. Vegeta held up his hands and tried to feign humility, but in truth his ego was swelling so much it could barely fit into the room. His history with Bulma wasn't as long or as aggressive as his colleagues, but she definitely brought out his competitive side like no other.

Before meeting and, consequently, bumping heads with the woman, Vegeta had always thought that women who looked like Bulma got their money from either posing in front of a camera or by hooking their claws into aging billionaires during their annual trophy-wife hunt. Sure, it was a bit sexist, and maybe he shouldn't have told her that at a cocktail party, but that had always been his experience.

Frankly, nothing in his life had prepared him for meeting a woman like Bulma Briefs. The West University grad was quite possibly the smartest person he'd ever met. He'd witnessed on several occasions her ability to talk about virtually any subject and recall facts and figures off the top of her head. And except for the guys she squashed in competition, men absolutely adored her.

With good reason.

He and Bulma had a secret. They had actually met two years before he came to work for NuMedias, in Bora-Bora, in fact. He'd never forget her itsy-bitsy silver dress that had had him thinking about putting a ring on it.

Krillin, a short, bald-headed man who'd had the misfortune of coming in a distant second in sales for the past seven years, puffed out his chest and added his gruff two cents into the mix. "I plan to snap a picture on my iPhone and make Christmas cards when Ringo makes the announcement."

The guys laughed.

Nappa, another bald-headed man put his two cents in by saying. "It's time that bitch was knocked off her high horse and Vegeta is just the man to do it."

The crowd laughed. Vegeta frowned.

It was unfortunate that Bulma chose that moment to prop up against the conference room's door. "Think so, Nappa?"

The group of gossiping men jumped and swiveled their necks towards the door. The festive celebratory atmosphere evaporated despite the fact that Bulma was smiling. "Sounds to me like you boys can't handle a women playing in your little sandboxes." Her eyes swept toward Vegeta. "Pity."

Vegeta started to clarify that Nappa wasn't speaking for him, but then Mr. Ringo waltzed up behind Bulma.

"Good morning gentleman…and Ms. Briefs."

Bulma titled her head and then entered the conference room with her head high and her hips swinging. Angry or not, every eye followed her as she made her way to the other end of the long conference table.

Vegeta's gaze roamed from her hips to her perfectly round ass that had a nice jiggle when she walked. He sucked in a quiet breath and even mouth, "Damn" before she sat down. The hard-on he'd had from the moment he'd laid eyes on her stretched a few more inches and challenged the seams of his pants. It must've been true for all of them because he and the rest of his colleagues scrambled for chairs before their dicks saluted her, including Mr. Ringo.

"Looks like we're all here." Mr. Ringo said, straightening his tie and clearing his throat. "How is everyone doing this morning?"

Everyone responded with an out of sync chorus of "good" and "fine."

"Great." Ringo plopped open a leather folder. "Well, I'm only going to take a few minutes of your time. We usually announce our top ad executive around this time every year. And as you also know, Sloan Yasahiro will be leaving at the end of the year, so I'd decided that this year's top executive will be assuming his position."

A lot of head-bobbing and sideward glances followed Ringo's opening statement. Bulma calmly drew a deep breath and folded her arms under her breasts. The injustice of this position being awarded on the basis of just this year's performance pricked her skin. It seemed to her seven-year proven track record would have been the way to go, but whatever.

"The accounting department crunched the numbers, several times, and to my great surprise we have a first." Ringo said, clapping his hands together.

"A first what?" Bulma asked, not sure that she was following him.

Ringo's face lit up. "Our first tie."

Bulma and Vegeta leaned forward and blinked stupidly at him. "A tie?"

"Amazing isn't it? Both Bulma Briefs and our new guy, Vegeta Ouji, had generated 1.8 billion in ad revenue for our company. Absolutely amazing in this economy." He led everyone into a round of applause, but a current of disbelief rippled around the table as well.

Vegeta and Bulma's gazes flew to one another. Neither of them looked as if they were ready to swallow that bitter pill. In fact, Bulma's hands itched to wrap around the smug bastard's neck and squeeze it until he passed out or someone called the cops.

"So what exactly does that mean?" Bulma asked, returning her attention to the head of the table. She hoped to hell that he wasn't about to suggest that she and Vegeta share the VP position. That would just lead to the next world war.

"It means that we're going to have a sort of a face-off." Ringo announced proudly. "Between you and Vegeta here."

Vegeta looked skeptical. "I'm not following you."

Ringo continued to look proud about this scheme he was cooking up. "We usually run these from November to November. But given the stakes I'm going to a one-month only competition between the two of you. So whichever one of you lands the biggest account in December will win the salesperson of the year and land the VP position."

Whatever smile Bulma had sported when she'd walked into the conference room was definitely gone by the time she rushed out.

"This is some bullshit!" She declared. Breezing past Kin and storming into her office.

Kin grabbed her notepad, jumped out of her seat and followed her boss into her office. "How did it go?"

"Close the door."

Kin doubled back and closed the office door. "Was it that bad? Did Veg−"

"Don't!"

"I mean…did he beat us?" She fretted.

"No." Bulma dropped into her chair and drew in several deep breaths, but it really wasn't helping. Maybe if she pinched herself hard enough, she'd wake up from this nightmare. Desperate, she actually grabbed the back of her left hand and pinched. "Ow."

Kin frowned and stepped back. "Are you all right? Do I need to call someone for you?"

"No. But I could really use a drink."

"It's not even noon yet."

"So? Who made up that rule?"

Kin eased into one of the vacant chairs across from her desk. "Maybe you should just tell me what happened."

"That man is what happened." Bulma exploded. "The good ole boy system is alive and well on Park Street. Every one of those assholes knows that I deserve that VP position. But they keep inventing new ways to move that damn goal post farther and farther away from me."

"Wait. You won the best sales, but they still gave it to Veg−"

"Ah. Ah. Ah!" Bulma waved her finger back and forth. "Don't you dare say that man's name!"

"Sorry."

"They didn't give either one of us the position…yet?" Bulma couldn't stand sitting anymore so she hopped up from her chair and started pacing back and forth in front of the window. "I have the good mind to quit."

"What?"

"Start my own agency. Yeah. Hell, my clients love me. They'll follow me wherever I go." That last part was spoken with a little less conviction. There was never any such guarantee in this business. Over the years she had witnessed many friends and colleagues take that leap of faith only to crash and burn in the brave world of start-up ad boutiques. The truth of the matter was that a small anything was usually swallowed up by a bigger fish.

"Ms. Briefs, I'm still confused about what's going on." Kin said.

"It's a tie." Bulma said, rolling her eyes. "Can you believe it?"

"A tie?"

Bulma quickly gave her assistant a recap of her morning meeting and then felt herself get all heated again. "You know. I should just let them go ahead and give it to that asshole. That's what they want to do anyway. I mean…what am I supposed to do in December? It's our weakest month as far as snagging new accounts. All the bigwigs are going to be Kami knows where during the holidays."

Suddenly, Kin's mouth stretched into a wide smile.

Bulma stopped pacing. "What?"

Kin started fanning herself with her notebook. "I think I'm about to earn a big bonus." She sing-songed.

"Oh?" Bulma's blue brows leapt upward. "I'll be the judge of that. Whatcha got?"

"The address for Tao Anderson's company Christmas party. Word is that he'll be in attendance. I figured that you might be up for crashing a party."

Bulma's heart raced, but she kept it cool for a few more seconds. "You're kidding me."

Kin shook her head. "Let's just say I pulled a lot of strings and agreed to a couple of dates I'm going to regret."

Bulma squealed and raced over and embraced her assistant. Together they bounced up and down as if they'd just won the lottery. Then Bulma got a hold of herself and stepped back. "You're right. You absolutely are going to get that big bonus. Book me on a flight to Paris ASAP."

"I'm on it." Kin pivoted and rushed back to the door but then gasped when she jerked it open and neatly crashed into the massive chest on the other side. "Mr. Ouji!"

"Kin, what have I told you about mentioning that man's−" Bulma glanced up. "−name."

"Ouch." Vegeta said, pressing a hand to his chest. "I think I might be offended." He glanced off in the distance as if thinking about it. "Yes…I'm pretty sure I'm offended."

"Then sadly, you've mistaken this as the office of Who-Gives-A-Damn." Bulma said.

Vegeta's head flew back with a hearty laugh. "Careful. I just might fall in love with that wonderful sense of humor of yours."

She rolled her eyes. "Kin, could you please take care of that thing for me?"

"Right away." Kin tried to squeeze past Vegeta. "Excuse me."

He finally stepped aside and allowed her to pass. "Do you have a few minutes?" He asked Bulma.

"No." She said, returning to her desk.

"No matter. This will just take a few minutes." He invited himself into the office and shut the door. "I just wanted to apologize about that bit you heard just before the meeting this morning."

She rolled her eyes again. What on earth had she done in a previous life to deserve this man torturing her so much? "Forget about it. I know you guys like to get together and gossip."

"That's just it." He said. "I know it looks ruthless, but I don't agree with what some of the men were saying."

"Yeah. My favorite part was when you stood up for me." She said sarcastically. "Such chivalry nearly swept me off my feet." She turned toward her computer. "Now if you don't mind, I need to get back to work."

"I really didn't get a chance to say anything to Nappa. You spoke up, remember?" He strolled closer to her desk. When she didn't respond, he added. "Anyway, I just wanted you to know that I don't think that you're a bitch, little minx."

Her gaze jumped up at him. "It's Bulma, and frankly I don't care whether you or your playground friends think I'm a bitch." She cocked her head. "Now…are we through here?"

Vegeta laughed.

Bulma leaned back in her chair and folded her arms. "What's so funny?

"You. You're really a piece of work." He said, unbuttoning his jacket and taking a seat.

"Don't get comfortable." She said testily.

"See?" He gestured toward her. "That's what I mean. You've been cold toward me for a while. I'm not quite sure that I deserve it."

"We can either start with you being born or when you invited yourself into my office. You pick." Bulma leveled her gaze with his. It was a dangerous thing to do, given that his dark, sensual eyes had a way of drawing in his prey. Not to mention that every other minute, he habitually ran his tongue across his full lips, making them glisten and call out her name.

"Can't we all just get along?" He suggested. "After all, one of us is going to be the other's boss pretty soon. It only seems logical that we clear whatever…misunderstanding there is between us."

"Misunderstanding?" Bulma cocked her head. "I thought I was making it very clear that I don't like you."

"Liar." Vegeta's brows stretched upward while his smirk stretched wider. "In fact, I'm willing to bet that you still want me."

Bulma's mouth clamped down tight as she shivered in her seat.

"Ah. Cat got your tongue?" He inquired, standing. "Have I finally hit on the truth of the matter?" Vegeta started walking around the desk.

Alarm bells rang in her head. "What are you doing?" She eyed him suspiciously.

"I'm just curious." He said, propping a hip on her desk and leaned so close she was sure he could smell the spearmint gum tucked in the back of her cheek. "How much longer are you going to keep this act up?"

Bulma's eyes drifted close as her breath seemed to stall in her chest.

"You still like how I do this?"

She turned her head but didn't pull away, which allowed for Vegeta's hand to cup and caress the side of her face. Taking full advantage of her collapsing defenses, he leaned forward and pressed his full lips against her perfectly ruby lips. Her soft moan made him hard and ready for whatever.

Bulma's mind hit the mute button on those alarm bells that were trying to ruin the moment. Right now she just wanted to bask in the feel of his soft lips. One thing that was as true now as it was the night they had met was that this fine devil could kiss like nobody'd business.

Vegeta's confidence kicked up a notch when he saw the raw desire flickering in her blue eyes. For the past year, he had loved giving the sexy no-nonsense businesswoman a run for her money. Their occasional verbal sparring was fun and, at times like these, it turned him on. He'd sensed that it was the same for her and now he had proof. He also knew that Bulma would rather die than admit it.

He pulled her up from her chair and directed her to stand in between his legs. That was an even bigger mistake it left him free to roam his hands over her thick curves and settle them on each ass cheek. "You still feel so good." He murmured against her lips. "I bet you still feel good in other places too."

Before she could even process what he was saying, Bulma found herself turned around and her breasts pressed against the cold floor-to-ceiling window, with her skirt up over her waist and Vegeta easing in between her legs from the back. She gasped aloud, her warm breath steaming up the window.

"Shh." He warned. "Unless you want your assistant coming in here and seeing who this pussy still belongs to."

Bulma bit her lower lip and kept her voice down to soft moans and whispers.

Vegeta dove his head into her curtain of vanilla and coconut scented hair and stretched a hand down in between the soft V of curls between her legs so that he could drum his fingertips against her throbbing clit.

"Tell me how much you hate me now." He dared. "Tell me how much you hate what I'm doing to you right now."

Bulma gulped, swallowed and gasped. No way could she manage to get such a huge lie through her lips when she was seconds away from coating his dick with a gallon of honey. Vegeta's mocking laughter was a bit humiliating but the tiny waves of pleasure that rippled up from the walls of her pussy to the tips of her nipples made it all worthwhile.

"Ah. Ah"

"What little minx? You want to say something?" His hips and drumming fingers picked up speed.

From the corner of Bulma's droopy eyes, she locked gazes with a stunned window washer. He was just one office over, but was taking in the scene as if he'd just been given an early Christmas gift.

"Ah. A-Ah."

Vegeta covered her mouth with his free hand and whispered "That's it. You better come before your assistant waltzes in here. She's only going to leave us alone for five minutes."

Bulma slammed her eyes shut and rammed her ass back on Vegeta's dick with as much zeal and gusto as she could muster. "C'mon, little minx. C'mon."

Four strokes, two drums later and he was swallowing her cry of release in a soul-stirring kiss that reflected the true passion that still existed between the two of them. Vegeta pulled his lips away from hers and smirked in triumph. "If this is how you hate me, then I'm curious to see how you act when you finally realize that you still want me."

BlueMon Goddess: Well I think this was a good start to the story! Even gave you guys a little citrus to start things up in the first chapter. And things already are heating up between Vegeta and Bulma and next chapter you'll get a glimpse of their history, so look forward to it.