Sudsy

If she hadn't been pinned to his chest the entire night, Bulma would have tossed and turned fitfully for the few hours of darkness they shared. No matter which way she adjusted herself, he pulled her close again. To her consternation, she didn't know if he was deeply sleeping or lightly dozing, but there was a tension that rose between them each time she tried to move - even though his eyes never cracked open. By the time the light began to peek through the windows she was exhausted, annoyed, and impatiently waiting for him to wake up.

It was her disgruntled, huffy breaths against his face that finally pulled him from his slumber. Blearily he gazed around at unfamiliar walls before his eyes settled on the woman crushed against him, who stared resolutely at the ceiling with her own arms crossed against her naked chest. Vegeta pulled away in bewilderment and without a moment to lose the woman bounded up from the bed and headed straight for the bathroom, slamming the door behind her as Vegeta rose to a sitting position. He could feel her anger rolling off her in waves like background music, and he ran a hand roughly over his face and up into his hair. "Fuck," he hissed, eyes searching for his discarded clothes. Sleep had come so deeply and satisfyingly that he'd gone through the entire night without a thought towards what had occurred.

Meanwhile Bulma looked over her visage in the mirror and noted every single bruise and mark on her body. "Zombies are real," she muttered scathingly, chin raised as she examined the light purple finger grips around her throat, but her gaze was inevitably drawn to the mottled green and indigo bite on her shoulder which was so much more gruesome than the first one ages ago. Perhaps it was simply because she hadn't cleaned up, but it looked like there had been a murder and she'd been standing next to it. Dried blood covered her torso in droplets and gory smears and clotted around her shoulder. Bulma winced as she rolled her neck and stretched the sore wound. "God-damned, fucking beast," she muttered.

Vegeta's head shot up as the door to the bathroom flew back open and Bulma marched out, naked as the day she was born, hands on her hips and eyes narrowed into icy slits. "Look at me," she demanded, her nose wrinkling in distaste.

The Saiyan wisely remained silent, so she stalked over to the bed and stood before him. "LOOK AT ME!" she shouted as angry tears sprung to the edges of her eyes - but she refused to let them drop. "What the hell do you think I am made of, Vegeta? Do you think I'm some piece of meat you can gnaw on and throw around like a football?" (Vegeta's mind felt blank as he searched for an image of a football.) "I look like I'm wearing a fucking scarf! And if you think you're getting laid any time soon you have another thing coming buddy because I can barely walk and I think you fucking bruised my cervix - Do you hear what I'm saying? You practically damaged my womb, you jackass! What do you have to say for yourself?" she finished, chest heaving dramatically as she snarled through her teeth.

Vegeta had a few thoughts he figured would only make her angrier - so he said them anyway. "I think you finally look like a proper fucking woman with all those battle marks," he drawled as he stood to match her stance and leaned in closer. "And the smell of blood in the morning is a turn-on for me." He felt her move and easily caught her hand as she raised it to slap him, but she was undeterred.

"You want to repeat that, sir?" she snarled, hand curling into a fist as he held her by the wrist. "You think it's amusing that I'm hurt and bloody because of you? I'm sorry, I didn't realize Saiyan Princes treated their mates like pieces of trash."

Vegeta reared his head back in affront as she glared up at him fearlessly, seemingly unaware of her nakedness. "You should be so honored that I deign to associate with you, human," he retorted, releasing her hand in annoyance.

Bulma let out a harsh laugh. "That's not an answer to my question, asshole." Her teeth flashed as she leaned in closer to him. "Everything you did to me is evident on my body - every bruise, every single tooth you dug into me. And you think that's hot?"

Stomach suddenly churning in an unfamiliar way, Vegeta looked off to the side where the sheets lay in a tumble and splotches of blood seeped in like spilled ink. It was a moment before they returned to meet hers, and she waited for him to speak. His mouth opened once before he finally admitted softly, "You have never looked more like a Saiyan, Woman."

Vegeta expected her to continue to rant, but a sigh slipped through her lips as she ran a hand through her matted hair and closed her eyes. A few seconds passed before she murmured, "I know that's a compliment, at least."

He was immediately uncomfortable, neither wanting to confirm nor deny it. Sensing that, Bulma sighed again and leaned into him wrapping her arms loosely around his hips, cheek resting on his collar bone. Vegeta stood stock still as she continued: "We have a difference of opinion, then, about what kind of sex is appropriate." He felt her face turn upwards to him, and he peered down through his heavy lashes. "So are we gonna talk about what happened last night?"

Immediately Vegeta extricated himself from her arms and muttered a resounding "No."

"Well that's unacceptable," she snapped, without much surprise at his reaction. Bulma resolutely followed him on soft, bare feet as he moved towards the bathroom. "We have to."

"There's not a goddamned thing in this world that I have to do," he sneered, ignoring her proximity as he opened a cabinet for a towel.

"Bullshit," she laughed with dark humor, "If you ever want to have sex with me again then you're going to do just that!"

Vegeta reared around in consternation. "You dare threaten me with that, Woman?"

Bulma shrugged. "Sure. That's a totally normal thing for women to do. Or don't you know that?"

A snarl ripped out of his chest as her smile blossomed on her face. "I'll fuck whomever I want, bitch. It doesn't have to be you."

"But you'd like it to me me," she reasoned, an eyebrow arching as she ran a wanton finger down his chest. "And quite frankly, it has to be discussed because I think both you and I know we're sensing each other's feelings… right?"

Vegeta's face blanched and he paused his motions. So she could sense him. Rage and apprehension and embarrassment washed over him in waves, and Bulma responded immediately with a comforting hand beneath his jaw. "I mean you would never choose a woman who couldn't figure that out by now, right Vegeta?" …to be fair, she'd been working on this theory all night, but she figured he'd been aware of the problem by now.

The Saiyan shook her off and scoffed, walking to the shower to turn it on. "This isn't up for discussion."

"And I've already said that it has to be done. I don't want to invade your privacy any more than I want you to invade mine," she said as he dropped his pants and stood with his back to her, for all intents and purposed ignoring her presence.

There was a moment of pregnant pause before he replied, "I cannot make it stop."

"I wasn't asking you to," she said softly.

His profile turned to her, one eye glancing over her naked form. She really did look kind of sick now that he'd taken a moment to notice, her skin too pale in the morning light and blue hair matted with sleep and gore.

Bulma shrugged at his silent perusal. "I don't mind, necessarily. But I do mind if you're resenting me for it. I can't have another night like that, Vegeta."

He quickly turned away, eyes darting around as he considered her words. Suddenly he felt her hands gliding up his back, and her breath whispered across his neck. "You know I don't mind it a little rough. Hell, we can role play if that's what you're into, but you should never really force me. There should never be a moment where I fear for my life. That's not okay. Not for us or anyone else."

"You should fear for your life every moment you're in my presence, Woman," he grumbled without much heat, annoyed to find that he felt guilty. "Don't fucking forget that."

Her hands slid around his chest to pull him towards her, and she set her chin against his back. "No. I refuse. If you didn't kill me last night then I know it's never going to happen. I mean, come on." A cheshire cat smile curled on her lips. "I'm way too hot to waste that way."

That didn't make him feel much better, either. She felt him stiffen. "I came to your planet intending to kill you all. You are an idiot not to fear me. I deserve that respect, at least."

A frown crinkled her brow at this, and she reached over and unceremoniously turned the tap off the shower. "I respect you for a lot of things, Vegeta, but that's not one of the reasons."

He turned to chastise her for cutting off the water when she reached over and turned the faucet on for the giant tub with a mischievous grin. "I tell you what. You can spend the rest of the day making up for last night with me." She clicked another button and sudsy blue bubbles came spilling out. "And I won't make you talk about it. All you have to do," she drawled, pulling him by the wrist towards her, "Is listen to me, because I've got a few tips for not killing your girlfriend."

He felt rather unsure, but he couldn't help but follow as she dipped one delicate foot into the steaming water behind her. "That is a term you used with that weakling of yours," he sneered, nonetheless following her into the tub.

"Say what you will. You're a boyfriend till you marry a girl." Bulma smiled up at him as he stood over her with a dubious scowl on his face, and she tugged on his hand. "Just sit down."

Vegeta snorted as he uncomfortably settled in the water. "We are mates. That is much different from what you had with that fool."

"True," she mused, and then turned to settle back against his chest. "But we're not married."

Vegeta frowned as he got a full view of the vicious bite on her shoulder. He'd really overdone it, and the bruises stood out violently against her alabaster skin. He raised a hand to softly trace her collar bone, pleased to see he hadn't broken it, while he murmured, "That's what your idiot parents engage in, correct?" He remembered her mentioning it the day before…

Eyes rolling, Bulma said, "Yeah, and what Goku and Chi Chi have and nearly everyone else on the damn planet, I swear…"

"Hn." He continued to trace down her arms, noting the bruises on her wrists. "And that's something you want?"

Bulma's eyes flew open in surprise. "Um, yeah. Eventually. Sure. With someone." She cleared her throat, remembering the night before. Vegeta was literally a textbook full of paragraphs that screamed NOT MARRIAGE MATERIAL, DUMMY.

He snatched his gaze to the side of her face at her clear dismissal of him. "You do not think I am worthy of your moronic cultural contract?" His voice was a dangerous hiss in her ear. "When I have mated you and bound myself to you in every sickeningly stupid way possible? When mine is a bond thousands of times stronger?"

Immediately she pressed back against him, hoping to send him soothing waves somehow with her mind. "Vegeta," she sighed as she wrapped her hands around and beneath his thighs to pull him closer, "Last night you almost killed me, and honestly? You were only, like, halfway successful with that. That's pretty much rule number one for marriage. Closely followed by mutual respect," she continued, turning her head to peer up at him, "Which includes not forcing your partner into sex."

"I cannot help that you are weak," he snarled, arms nonetheless wrapping around her waist.

"Yeah, that's… not an excuse," she deadpanned. "Even if I were a Saiyan lady and could kick your ass, you still shouldn't do that."

Vegeta snorted. "You know nothing about Saiyan women and what they want out of their mates."

She was getting annoyed again. "Yeah that's dumb logic. It still stands that you should respect your partner. And no offense, but I don't think you know much about Saiyan women either. If they were anything like you, they'd never let you get away with that."

Vegeta tried to hide a smirk at that, since her comment still rubbed him the wrong way, but Bulma was as close to a Saiyan woman as he ever thought he'd get.

As though purposefully accentuating her argument, Bulma hissed and winced as she shifted, her whole body aching from the night's violence. Again his eyes were drawn to the neon bruises, and as her knees popped out of the water, he could see the marks of his hands there as well. The image of her back in the mirror the second time they'd fucked came to his mind. He'd been mildly concerned then at the vaguest whisper of bruises on her hips, and here she was looking like she'd been dragged through one of Frieza's dungeons. He hadn't bothered to share his ki with her last night. It hadn't been till the very end that he realized he wasn't going to kill her after all, and by that time he'd forgotten that was part of his duty to her as a mate.

Vegeta frowned, closing his eyes. Even that was a disgrace. Taking a human was bad enough, but not controlling himself during their rutting was even worse. Ever since he was a young child under the lizard's finger he had been nearly incapable of controlling his rage, but in the last ten years he had gotten a much better grasp on it. This woman though… She was an enemy he had never experienced before. He didn't know how to handle her, didn't know how to defeat her. Half the time she had him by the balls with ownership over that coveted technology, the other half of the time she unknowingly teased him with her body, even when she wasn't around to be seen.

What's worse, he didn't know how to interact with a woman he wasn't inevitably going to kill. They were all dead, every single one he'd fucked, just to avoid any complications - any feelings, any progeny.

One of his hands snaked to the flatness of her stomach and rested there, feeling the pulse of her body through the skin. Beneath - he assumed - was her womb, and he sorted through his mind as he remembered that moment that seemed like weeks ago when he'd thought it would be a good idea to breed with her. He was surprised to find that it was still a mildly pleasing thought.

Bulma, meanwhile, had felt that strange intimate touch on her belly and had somehow immediately intuited its meaning. She fell silent, breaths coming heavier as she sorted through her own thoughts about it. Was he thinking about children? Was he concerned she was pregnant? …Would he kill her if she was? Bulma didn't think so, but his rage last night had set up a standard that couldn't be ignored. As if echoing his thoughts, she murmured, "You know, you really go all over the board with your emotions, Vegeta. One moment you seem kind of happy, the next you're screaming at me that you're going to kill me."

He made no reply, but scowled into her shoulder as the tub finally stopped filling.

"How's a girl supposed to live like that?" she asked aloud, not really expecting an answer.

"I am a Saiyan," he groused, as though that explained all her questions.

Bulma chuckled half-heartedly. "No shit." There was another pause. "But… were your companions as volatile as you?"

She felt him stiffen again, but waited to see if he'd reply. Finally, he said, "No," through gritted teeth. "But they were still much more dangerous that that moron third-class you keep around."

Nodding, she lifted a foot to examine her knee that had been aching and noticed the bruises there. Scowling, she was unable to cut back her biting words: "Yeah, well you never saw me running around like a hospital patient after hanging out with Goku either, so I guess you're right, tough guy."

Vegeta felt abashed, a foreign feeling that made him feel even dumber that her words. His arms pulled her flush to him as he nosed the bite at her shoulder. "I can heal you," he grunted, unable to be comforting.

Eyes widening in surprise, Bulma tilted her head to his as she lowered her leg back into the water. "How?"

"Ki-sharing, idiot."

Her frown sharply returned to her mouth. "Why the fuck didn't you do that last night then?"

His silence spoke volumes before he growled, "You said we wouldn't discuss this."

"Fine," she huffed, crossing her arms beneath her breasts. "Don't talk about it then. You don't have to be a man and own up to what you did."

Suddenly half of the water evaporated as his ki spiked, and Bulma could barely breathe as he crushed her to his chest in rage. "Vegeta! Take it down a notch," she hissed, turning her head so that her lips barely brushed his cheek.

The Saiyan willed himself to be calm, breathing harshly through his nose as he forced away images of him snapping her stupid little head off. She held her face to his, trying to send him soothing thoughts again - and feeling a little dumb for not knowing whether that was a thing she could do.

Vegeta, however, felt that little sensation of someone pushing at his mind and he stilled. Was she doing that on purpose? It was stronger than it had been before. With a mental sigh, he let down his defenses and felt a cool sensation in his mind, like a stream on a fall morning. As she felt his body relax, Bulma leaned into his neck to brush her lips across his jaw. Immediately something else stirred to life behind her, and a ghost of a smile whispered across her face as she nuzzled against him.

Inhaling her scent, Vegeta dropped his mouth to the crook of her neck and relaxed his grip to let one of his calloused hands drift between her legs. Bulma's breath flitted across his temple as his fingers delved into her folds and -

Bulma yelped, grabbing his hand and yanking it away as tears sprung to her eyes again. "That fucking hurt," she whimpered, trying to peer through the suds at herself as Vegeta froze. He'd barely touched her! He pulled back as she replaced his hand with hers, cupping herself to gingerly feel for damage. Tears of mortification sprang to her eyes again, and she muttered to herself, "Probably just bruised."

But her words were ice to Vegeta, and the image of shoving himself into her the night before dominated his vision. "Bulma," he hesitated, not knowing the words he wanted to say.

"You said you didn't want to discuss it," she cut in, refusing to meet his gaze as she stiffened in his grasp.

Silence fell between them before he finally groused out, "I regret that you are hurt."

And she felt that, a wave of something like remorse knocking at her heart. It was a feeling mixed with confusion - which Bulma felt coming from him most of the time, if she thought about it objectively. His words melted a little of the anger that was growing in her again, and she sighed, knowing that provoking him kept getting them nowhere. "Do you regret that I'm hurt?" she asked, turning to look at him as she draped one arm across his shoulder, "Or do you regret doing that?"

As he so often did with this little female, Vegeta felt trapped into a corner. He narrowed his eyes and looked away to think. "I do not know." He swallowed, and she offered him no comfort as she mutely watched his struggle. "I… everything I do is for a purpose."

Bulma arched a brow. "And your purpose last night was…?"

"To kill you."

Bulma waited a moment before she turned his face to hers again with a gentle hand. "That didn't work out so well for either of us, huh?"

He closed his eyes, not wanting to look at the sadness in hers. He felt that feeling again - "Don't fucking offer me pity, bitch!" he snarled, jerking his chin away.

Bulma's voice rose in pitch. "Why do you think I'm pitying you, Vegeta? I'm mad, I'm sad, and I'm scared half the time at whatever is happening between us but pity isn't something I'll extend to someone who so easily hurt me!"

"I felt it last night woman!" he snarled, clutching her upper arms tightly as if she might fly away. "I felt you - I felt - "

"Feeling something is normal, Vegeta!" she interrupted.

His nostrils flared. "They were your feelings, not mine, and I don't want them!"

"Fine!" she snapped as she tried to pull her arms away to stand. "Then don't fucking come near me. Stay on the other side of the planet till we have to leave." He let her go in astonishment and she stood dripping over him, bruises glowing starkly in the white bathroom. "You asked me if I wanted this and I said yes. I'm not backing out of my promise. You can tuck your tail and run for all I care. You're a grown-assed man and you can make your own decisions. But don't you DARE," she hissed, hands moving to indicate her entire body, "Come skulking around to beat me to a bloody pulp and use me."

Vegeta shot out of the water and stood in front of her before she could blink. "It was a mistake," he ground out with a cringing face. "The fact that I didn't kill you is - that instead I - you should be dead and I would be free again!" he snarled with a wild look in his eye, tearing his hands through his hair. Bulma gaped at him and tried to shuffle back. He seemed a little… mad. His gaze landed on her face. "I am not a human, Bulma. I do not feel these human things. I should not have had mercy - you should not still be here…"

Again Bulma could feel how confused he was, how angry he was, how much self-loathing was tied into his personality. It occurred to her that she was an idiot to not have seen it before - this incredible drive to defeat everyone and everything not out of bloodlust, but out of a refusal to be less than incredible.

She placed unsteady hands on his lower arms, which were raised as though ready for battle, and said softly, "I do not think attraction and - feelings like that - are singular to the human experience, Vegeta. And I know you're probably tired of him being used as an example, but Goku's the only other Saiyan on earth, and he has those feelings too."

Vegeta's hands opened and closed in abject horror. "I am a fucking PRINCE! I am not like that buffoon!"

"I know, I know, you two are not alike," she soothed, moving a little closer as the sudsy water lapped at her shins, "I mean from a scientific perspective, his brain also let him develop those emotions that you identify as 'human.' If that were truly the case, he would never have been able to experience them."

Vegeta was silent, his chest moving up and down in heavy breaths.

She took that as encouragement. "If you think about it logically, it makes sense. If our two species are close enough to actually breed together, then I can only assume that most of our physiology is similar, including the way our brains work. The major differences are - obviously - the tail, which is still something that crops up in humans every now and then, the gravity-defying hair, which is…" she eyed his temple, "Cool, and the ki-maniplulation capacity." With a deep breath, she slid her hands up to his shoulders and anchored them there. "If Goku - with no prior experiences to rely on as a Saiyan - can develop these emotions, then a good scientist would say that it's not unnatural."

Vegeta stared back at her in horror. "We are a warrior race, woman."

"That's true. So your experiences as a warrior would change the way you perceive and value emotions. But that doesn't mean that you won't have them, Vegeta." A wary smile crossed her lips. "Maybe you just never found someone worthy enough to receive your attentions. That's a very Princely thing to do, I'd say."

It was a few moments before the breath let out of him like air in a balloon and he slumped the barest bit. "So," she ventured, pushing her hips against his, "Can we have a truce? Will you stop hating me for making you like me?"

Vegeta scowled. "Who said I liked you?"

"Just call a truce, jerk," she snapped, before her face brightened. "Plus, I think I said you owe me a day and I have a few ideas about how we should spend it." She ground her hips to his and grinned wolfishly.

He was definitely responding to her ministrations before he realized "…You're still hurt."

Bulma shrugged, feigning nonchalance, and said, "So heal me, buddy."

He peered down at her, scrutinizing her features and looking for lies. Vegeta felt he was at a crossroads, and he couldn't tell which path was the most dangerous - the one with, or the one without her.

A/N: R&R! I hope this chapter alleviated some of your concerns… -L