Chapter 44
Vegeta was surprised to find
Zarbon in the gravity room, dressed in the blue briefs and leggings he wore
into battle, bare-chested and hair awry as he worked through some katas. Zarbon
noticed his entrance and stopped, glancing over at Vegeta and smiling. “Thought
I’d give it a try,” the taller man said sheepishly, reaching up to smooth back
his hair. “I’m only up to about 30Gs, though.”
“Well, you’re not a Saiyan. I’d
imagine you don’t have the bone mass and the healing factors we do that would
allow you to increase the gravity as much as I can, but your changeling
abilities should count for something,” Vegeta replied coldly, moving to the the
trapdoor that led to a changing room.
“Yes, I could easily take more
gravity in my saurian form, but the stronger I get this body the mightier my
saurian body will be, right?” Zarbon said, shaking his hair loose from its
braid and beginning to redo it.
“Whatever,” Vegeta growled,
descending into the small room.
“What are you up to now,
gravity-wise?” Zarbon asked him, shouting so that Vegeta could hear him in the
changing room.
“None of your business,” Vegeta
snapped.
Zarbon sighed. “It is so. I’m
the one training you, after all.”
“I don’t care,” Vegeta growled,
emerging from the room in a sleeveless bodysuit.
“Well, you’d better,” Zarbon responded, apparently a little put off. He shook
his head and studied the floor for a moment, then raised his gaze to meet
Vegeta’s. “So, how was lunch?” he asked slyly.
Vegeta narrowed his eyes. “It
was horrible,” he grumbled, walking away from Zarbon and staring at the gravity
controls.
“What? After all that worrying
you had a miserable time? What was it? Didn’t she look pretty? Did she fend off
your advances? Did you even make advances? And to top it all off, I bet you
just threw that nice outfit of yours on the floor down there, didn’t you?”
Zarbon cried with exasperation, stomping off and down into the changing room, a
little cry of despair drifting up as he apparently found the clothes in the
haphazard condition Vegeta left them in.
“Shut up,” Vegeta snarled.
“This, too, is none of your business.”
Zarbon’s head popped up out of
the little room. “It is so. As the person who put you up to it I feel partially
responsible. Now why didn’t you enjoy yourself?” he asked with alarm.
“Because I hate her,” Vegeta
growled, his scowl deepening and he looked at the floor between his booted
feet.
“Wait, I thought you wanted
her,” Zarbon said, closing the hatch for the changing room as he glanced at
Vegeta, a small crease between his eyebrows.
“I hate her,” Vegeta snapped
loudly, bringing a fist down on the gravity console for emphasis.
Zarbon stared at him in silence
for several minutes. “I don’t believe this,” he whispered, shaking his head.
“So I guess it’s too much to hope that she’s out of your system now?” he
ventured.
“I hate her,” was all Vegeta
said.
Zarbon placed a finger alongside
his cheek, tilting his head and studying Vegeta. “Why do you hate her?” he
asked.
“I just do. She’s annoying and
stupid and ugly and a bitch. She’s got a screeching voice and his constantly
yelling. I can’t think of a more unpleasant person,” he muttered angrily.
Zarbon snorted a laugh. “Except
for you, who is also stupid and ugly and bitchy. You’re also constantly yelling
and you’re arrogant to top it all off,” he said sardonically. “What a match.”
“Shut up,” Vegeta warned,
balling up a fist.
Zarbon shrugged and moved to
face Vegeta. “I think you don’t hate her at all. In fact, I think you want her
more than ever. If you don actually hate her, it’ll only be because you don’t
like the way she’s succeeded in eliciting some sort of reaction out of the
heart you continually deny having. Why don’t you just go for it? Sleep with her
and have done with it so we can get the hell out of here.”
“It’s not about that,” Vegeta
spat, raising a wrist and fingering the hairline scar there, obsessing and
worrying it with his finger. “There are other things at work.”
“Like what?” Zarbon demanded,
his golden eyes traveling to where Vegeta was picking at his wrist.
“You wouldn’t understand. Let’s
just say that it’s not as easy as something purely physical,” Vegeta mumbled,
still staring at his wrist.
“What’s wrong with your wrist?”
Zarbon asked suddenly, moving over to Vegeta’s side so quickly that the Saiyan
didn’t have time to distance himself.
“Nothing,” Vegeta said quickly,
lowering his hand and glaring at Zarbon angrily.
“It looked like a surgical
scar,” Zarbon said, puzzled.
Vegeta’s face contorted in
horrific rage and he let loose a howl. “I hate that Freeza, too,” he bellowed,
his aura flashing into life. He turned and punched in some numbers on the
gravity console, and Zarbon threw his aura up as well.
“If you hadn’t powered up that
would have crushed you,” Zarbon said quietly.
Vegeta just looked at Zarbon as
if he were a million miles away and no more significant than an insect. “I must
defeat Freeza,” he intoned.
Zarbon shuddered despite
himself. The depths of Vegeta’s hate were far more extensive than he had ever
guessed, than he had ever though possible in a mortal. That kind of hatred went
beyond sanity, beyond feeling, and consumed one’s very soul. The death hadn’t
left Vegeta’s eyes, and Zarbon knew with sudden certainty that unless something
drastic happened Vegeta would be consumed. That would be the end of that. He
knew that as positively as he knew that the scar had something to do with
Freeza, although he had no idea just exactly what. If so, Vegeta’s hate was
most likely ingrained by the tyrant himself, and therefore justified. But
Bulma? Why would he hate Bulma, especially when he was so obviously attracted
to her? What else was at stake? “I have to get us out of here before you drive
me mad,” Zarbon muttered in return, then walked out the chamber door.
The entire afternoon and evening had passed. She had wandered aimlessly from
room to room, pestering her parents whenever she could to distract her from the
myriad of feelings warring inside her chest. He hates me, I just know it,
she grumbled inwardly. She couldn’t believe that she had been so bold to
actually grab his hand, to suggest that they become something more than
antagonistic acquaintances. The most frightening thing of all to her was that
she had meant it. If he had given her the correct reaction, she would have been
prepared to do anything he wanted to. That really scared her, especially since
she had never felt that way about anyone before. Your prince came in a
battle-worn and bloodstained and most certainly not shining armor, she
thought to herself wryly.
After another hour she gave up
and decided to take her restlessness to bed. She showered, feeling disgusted
with herself for using her special scented soaps and lotions, knowing that she
did it only in case she ran into him. The arrogant bastard didn’t deserve it,
that was for sure, she decided as she pulled the silky nightie over her head
and crawled in between the sheets. Despite all her unrest, however, she was
asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.
She walked through the corridor,
head down as she contemplated how soon they would be able to encapsulate the
pods, mumbling to herself quietly. The clicking of the heels of her sandals
echoed down the empty hallway, and she idly wondered where the staff was.
Shouldn’t they be working in the labs? Suddenly her thoughts were interrupted
by a motion at the other end of the passageway; upon looking up she saw Vegeta
was walking in her direction. She could tell from one glance he meant to ignore
her, and so she carried on, looking straight ahead. It was difficult to keep
her eyes from roving over him, especially since she realized he was heading
back to his room after his shower, a pair of gray sweat shorts cinched around
his tight waist and his bare, muscular chest glistening with sweat. She almost
made it past him, but right as their shoulders passed one another they glanced
to the side simultaneously. His eyes slid over her like heated oil as they
gazed upon her, and she felt a little shiver run down her spine. Suddenly,
before she could react, his strong hands were on her, pulling her to him as he
clamped his mouth onto hers, kissing her deeply and passionately, his tongue
sliding into her mouth like hot glass. She gasped around him and closed her
eyes, reveling in the wonderful way he tasted. His hands pushed her against the
wall, and suddenly her skirt was around her hips, her underwear sliding down
her legs, and he took her there as she moaned and rocked against him. She broke
out in a sweat under his ministrations, choking as she finished violently. Then
he kissed her on the mouth again, set her gently back on the floor, retied his
shorts, and set off down the hall as if nothing had happened. She was left
leaning against the wall, pressing her palms against the cool, smooth surface
and staring after him in amazement. It had been quick and unexpected, that was
for certain, but every bit as passionate as she had hoped. She found herself
already wanting him again, and just as she thought it he turned and looked at
her, his eyes burning once again. He stopped and faced her, a smile smile
crossing his lips, walking slowly up to her. One of his brawny arms encircled
her waist and he tore the collar of her shirt trying to get at her neck...
And then she woke up, sweating,
gasping, and utterly confused. She drew her forearm across her forehead to
clear it of perspiration, her eyes wide and blinking in the darkness of her
room. That had been the single most intense dream of her entire life. But why
Vegeta? Did she really feel so strongly about him? The curiosity of whether he
was actually that good wandered unbidden across her brain, but she quickly
stamped it out before it could develop further. She absolutely refused to
acknowledge such a preposterous thing. She lay back down on her pillow, but
found herself too hot and sweaty to sleep. Grunting with the inconvenience, she
ambled to the bathroom and had to take a long, cold shower before she could
return to sleep again.
Vegeta sat bolt upright in the
bed, covered in sweat and swearing to the gods that he could still taste her on
his lips. He cupped his hands and buried his face in them, closing his eyes
tightly as he emitted a deep sigh of exasperation. What was wrong with him?
He’d never had a dream like that before, and that it had been of that woman, of
all people! He snarled to himself and wiped the perspiration off of his face
with his hands, falling back heavily on the pillows, chest still heaving. His
entire body was slick with sweat, but he shivered in the warm summer night,
remembering how her thighs had felt beneath his hands as he had pulled up her
skirt, the way the artery in her neck throbbed away as he searched out her lips
with his. Irritated, he rose from the bed and found a pair of shorts, not
noticing in the dark what they looked like. He checked around his room out of
habit, making sure everything was in order, before leaving. The only thing that
would clear his mind was a good round of training.
It was midmorning. The sun flickered through the drapes hung on the window, and
the wind had just the slightest suggestion of autumn as it meandered over the
Capsule Corporation grounds. Bulma had just finished breakfast, her head still
clouded with dreams from the night before. She always felt extra tired after
sleeping in, but she the aftermath of the dream had robbed her of a good
several hours of sleep. She wandered out into the hallway, running her hand
along the wall idly as she walked, feeling the smooth paint under her
fingertips. Yawning, she wondered vaguely what she was going to do today. Maybe
her father had finished the encapsulation, or perhaps she could help with the
rejuvenation tank blueprints. Either way it would be fun, and a good
opportunity to spend time with her sire, especially since she felt she had been
neglecting him of late. She yawned again and turned around, heading towards the
outdoor labs where she knew he would be working, and as she turned who should
be heading the other way but Vegeta.
She gasped and lowered her eyes,
cheeks burning, and cursed her bad luck. After last night’s dream he was the
last person she wanted to see. She ducked her head and tried to ignore the fact
that she was blushing, speeding up so that she would walk briskly past him and
not have to speak. Hazarding a glance up, she saw that his cheeks were flushed
as well, and he wasn’t moving towards her with his usual swagger. The distance
between them closed and she held her breath, unable to resist glancing at him
as they drew even. Her eyes widened as she saw that he, too, was looking at her
with a strange expression on his face. Her surprise was great enough that she
stopped in her tracks and stared at him, suddenly realizing that they both were
wearing the same outfits as in the dream. His gray sweat shorts were cinched
around his impossibly muscular stomach, and she shuddered as she remembered how
that powerful body had felt moving against her. She looked at him, speechless
and somehow unable to move forward, and then her very breath became paralyzed
as he slowly raised a hand and cupped her jaw, his palm warm and slightly rough
against her cheek. His thumb traveled over her lower lip and she closed her
eyes, raising her hand to his and pressing her cheek against him with a sigh.
He leaned forward and she could feel his lips only fractions of inches away
from hers. Was he going to kiss her? She relaxed her lips just in case, but as
he leaned forward he inhaled deeply instead, so powerfully, in fact, that her
breath was actually robbed from her lungs and taken into his. She sighed as her
breath left her, sagging slightly towards him, and then her eyes snapping open
as he abruptly took his hands away. His black, bottomless eyes burned into her
for a moment, and then he stood up straight and walked away. She stared
wide-eyed straight in front of her, her hand going to her mouth and pressing
against her lips for a minute before she began to walk once again.
He was trembling as he walked away from her, startled by his own boldness. What
had he been thinking? Had he taken leave of all his senses? He had nearly made
it to the end of the hall, and then it was if something pulled inside of him
and he was unable to resist the temptation to turn. It was then that he
realized they were wearing the same outfits as in his dream last night, and his
dark eyes slowly traveled up to meet hers. She was standing at the opposite end
of the hall, her hands clasped and her blue eyes burning as she looked at him,
as if she was remembering...It hit him then, violently. He wanted her badly.
The only other thing he had ever wanted so badly was Freeza’s slow death. But
this realization paled in comparison with the second revelation he had, his
heart turning to lead and sinking through the floor as he understood it. Her
behavior- it had been strange, yet expectant. She wasn’t totally surprised by
what he had done. He knew with sudden certainty that she had had the same
dream. In fact, it had probably originated with her, since he had no previous
sexual experience. If he, who was so well-trained in the blocking of stray
mental signals, could have his dreams penetrated by a mere human then the
implications were enormous. A cold shock raced down his spine and he turned
away from her abruptly and began to storm off down the hall. If such a thing
had indeed happened than it could only mean one thing, and he didn’t want to
deal with it. He would no longer listen to Zarbon, and would instead take the
previous advice given to him and stay away from her altogether until he
returned to space.
She smiled as she watched his bare retreating back, the muscles rippling as he
moved. Oh, if his actions didn’t mean that he wanted her in the worst way then
she would hand over her her inheritance. His eyes had practically eaten her
alive, and he had literally taken her breath away. Just one of many strange
incidents with Vegeta. She sighed. He was so intense- he had singlehandedly
given her the most intense experiences of her entire life. He’s a prince and
has taken my breath away, she thought to herself, adding a mental chortle.
Well, he was only here for a little while more. Perhaps she should press her
luck during the coming evening. Smiling to herself yet again she scampered off
to visit her father, getting business out of the way before she focused on
pleasure.
Vegeta had worked out with Zarbon in the gravity room the entire day, only
stopping briefly for dinner. He had showered and donned a pair of shorts, which
he wore as he reclined on his bed while reading. The papers were stacked on the
bedside table, the pile nearly half a foot thick. Reconnaissance reports were
so unbelievably dull sometimes, but Zarbon insisted he read them since Atlia
had sent them. He would be glad to get back to Arlia so that all this could be
reported in person and he could just ask Atlia what he thought was pertinent
instead of wading through endless stacks. He sighed and rubbed his eyes,
considering switching off the light and going to sleep, when he heard the door
silently swing open. His superior hearing detected the displacement of air as
the door opened wide, and he squinted as the light from the hallway revealed a
silhouetted figure in the entrance. The faint smell of violets reached his
nostrils and his eyes opened in shock. The figure stepped into the room and
shut the door, the latch clicking softly as it caught in the doorframe. His
eyes widened even further as he saw it was the woman. She was standing there,
leaning against his door, wearing a long, button-down dress shirt. Her blue hair
fell at the sides of her face, her eyes twinkling devilishly as she crossed one
ankle over the other, her hands pressed flat against the closed door. She
slowly raised a hand and began to undo the buttons one at a time, taking her
time and keeping her eyes locked on him. He felt the blood rush to his cheeks
and his pulse pounded away in his throat, and suddenly the room felt stuffy.
What was she doing? Panic washed over him as she moved towards the last button
and he slowly put the papers he had been reading on the table, his eyes
rounding to saucers as the front of the shirt fell open. To his dismay he saw
that she wore a black lace bra and matching panties, the full swell of her
breasts completely visible. He sat up straight and pressed himself against the
headboard, trying to get as far away from her as possible but not wanting to
make enough movement to try and escape completely, as that risked gaining more
attention than he had already.
“Hello,” she whispered. “You
know I had the best dream last night.”
That clinched it. She had
definitely had the same dream. The implications of that were staggering...then
he realized that she had thought the dream a pleasant one. That, and her
presence in the room, meant that she did want him back, and he had to suppress
a smile. He opened his mouth to make a snide reply, but then she swiveled her
hips ever so slightly and he found his tongue dry and speechless.
“And I thought why keep it just
a dream?” she continued, voice staying in its warm murmuring tone. With that
she dashed over to the bed, drawing herself up the length of him as he went
absolutely rigid with shock. Her soft skin was all over him, hot as it pressed
against his own flesh, and he could see her pulse rate racing away in her neck.
Her breasts pressed into his chest and suddenly she was completely upon him,
her mouth claiming his violently. He closed his eyes and shuddered, working his
lips around hers, his hands hovering uncertainly over her back. She released
his mouth and pulled his head to the side, attacking his neck and nipping his
earlobe. He let loose a low groan, moving his head to expose his throat even
more, his eyes rolling back in his head as he succumbed to the pleasure she was
giving him. He had never felt anything like it in his entire life, and he
realized that it could be like her dream, if only he was willing. Her hands, in
the meantime, were wandering all over his chest and down his massive arms,
teasing and touching, finally tugging at the drawstring of his shorts. His eyes
snapped open, his head swimming with the smell of her, the ripe scent
increasing. His body began to react to her, and he sprang from the bed in
alarm, dumping her unceremoniously on the floor.
She growled and pushed herself
up, looking at him from under her blue bangs. “I have to go,” he said quickly,
and ran out of the room, leaving her there on the floor, staring after him in
bewilderment.
Zarbon awoke to the loud rapping on his door, the pounding seeming to reach all
the way through his skull to beat on his very brain. He winced with the sound
and rose groggily, thinking how he had become too accustomed to peaceful nights
of deep sleep during his Earth stay as he went to open the door. Vegeta spilled
in through the portal and slammed the door behind him, pressing against it as
if his very life depended on it. “Get me out of here,” he whispered.
Zarbon looked at him, utterly
confused. “What is gong on?” he demanded with a scowl. “There is no need to
wake me up, the end of the world as we know it notwithstanding. I require my
beauty sleep, you know,” he snapped.
Vegeta looked at him with wide
eyes, the black of them seeming endless as he stared at Zarbon in the dark
room. “The woman jumped me in my room,” he gasped.
Zarbon felt as if his head had
exploded, so bewildered was he. “What?” he said, narrowing his eyes and craning
his neck. “Bulma attacked you?”
Vegeta nodded rapidly, quickly
turning to put his ear to the door. “Yes. Do you hear her coming?”
Zarbon tilted his head to the
side, listening. “Uh, no. She seems to have given up. Now do you mind telling
me what happened?”
Vegeta’s scowl returned and he
glanced back at Zarbon. “I was reviewing those reports you gave me when she
came in wearing a shirt like you wore to that party. Then she unbuttoned it all
the way, and underneath she only had on a bra and underwear!”
Zarbon’s brow furrowed in
confusion. “And that’s it? You call that a bad thing?”
“Zarbon!” Vegeta protested,
sounding for a moment like an irritating little brother. “Then she jumped on
me, and her hands were everywhere! She even did that Earthling ‘kissing’ thing
to me! I’d never been touched like that before. Then she put her hand on my
shorts and started to undo things, and that’s when I decided to leave,” he
snarled.
Zarbon blinked, too stunned to
say anything for several moments. “That's all,” he said numbly. “You’re
honestly complaining about this.”
“It wasn’t invited!” Vegeta
countered angrily, still pressing his ear to the door.
“Uh, it’s called seduction,
Vegeta,” Zarbon said snappishly. He couldn’t believe Vegeta had interrupted his
sleep for this. “She must have thought you wanted her, and she obviously wants
you. Dammit, if you want her just take her! She’s made it clear that it’s what
she’s after.”
“I don’t want it to be like
that, especially if...” Vegeta said with a pout, leaning away from the door a
little.
“If what?” Zarbon demanded.
“What’s the ‘if’ for?”
“She and I had the same dream
last night,” Vegeta said quietly.
“So what? You Saiyans are
telepathic,” Zarbon replied sharply, his patience dissolving by the second.
“But we also have telepathic
blocks in place all the time to keep out other people’s thoughts. She a human,
Zarbon, and doesn’t have those abilities. You don’t either, so she shouldn’t be
able to get inside my head like that. You can’t. I think this can only mean one
thing...” he said pensively, staring off into nothingness.
“What? What is it?” Zarbon
urged, confused and desperately wanting to clear things up.
Vegeta looked down at the floor.
“I don’t know if I can take it. What if I waste away because of it? Which way
will I be weaker? I’ve heard it even kills, sometimes, the rejection...” he
pondered aloud.
“Dammit, Vegeta, tell me what in
the hell is going on!” Zarbon shouted, throwing an arm into the air.
“Shhh!” Vegeta snapped, pressing
an ear to the door once again. “I won’t. It’s none of your business,” he said
angrily.
Well, the expression of anger
was at least normal for Vegeta, even if nothing else was. “I can’t force you to
tell me, but if it’s a Saiyan thing I definitely have other sources.”
“You’ll do no such thing,”
Vegeta replied, apparently calm once again. “This is only my business and I
shall take care of it.”
“What, are you gong to have her
killed?” Zarbon mocked, and then saw the black murder in Vegeta’s eyes and
realized it might be exactly that after all. “Oh, gods, Vegeta, I can’t have
you sinking this empire into ruin before it even starts. You need her, Vegeta.”
“More than you know,” Vegeta
whispered, and Zarbon was barely able to catch it.
“What does that mean?” Zarbon
cried, but Vegeta had already thrown the door wide and left the room.
43 / Bulma’s Hideout / 45