Chapter 46

Vegeta watched with satisfaction as all his belongings were piled into large crates and encapsulated. “The number 518 is your space crate, which is what we’re putting all your stuff in,” Dr. Briefs explained. “Your scouters are 734, I think, with you space pods being 1026. All the other stuff is pending. I’ll send them along when the time comes, especially now that we’ll get the chance to study your ship up close.”

“Excellent. You’ve done an outstanding job,” Vegeta said, and Zarbon smiled.

“Now that’s diplomacy,” he whispered in the Prince’s ear.

Vegeta’s mouth twitched as if he couldn’t make the effort to smile but wanted to, and Zarbon’s brows creased. What was wrong with the little Prince? He walked back over to stand in front of his pod and smiled as Yamcha came over to shake hands.

“It’s been fun. If you ever end up back on Earth look me up. Thanks for not letting Vegeta kill me,” the Earthling said.

Zarbon smiled again. “Oh, really, my pleasure. I envy you your lifestyle,” he replied.

Yamcha cast a glance at the house behind them. “Well, it’s not as nice as is seems,” he muttered. “At any rate, take care.”

“You, too,” Zarbon said, and shook Yamcha’s hand again. The Earthling smiled and backed away, giving a little bow before trotting back to the group gathered in front of the building. Everyone they had had contact with was there, even the tall Namekian. “Hey, I just realized, there’s a Namekian here and there are dragonballs. So the legendary magical orbs of Namek are real?” he asked Vegeta.

“Probably,” Vegeta replied curtly, crossing his arms over his chest and scowling.

Zarbon sighed. Something was definitely wrong with Vegeta. He scanned the crowd and thought. Was it that only the elder Briefs and Goku had said farewell? No, that certainly wouldn’t bother Vegeta. He cast another glance in Vegeta’s direction. The young man was standing, feet planted, in front of the pod, looking angry. Well, that was normal enough. Bulma wasn’t in the crowd- was that it? His eyes flickered over to where Radditz was embracing his brother, looking extremely awkward as Goku and Gohan bear-hugged him. Soon Radditz was standing in front of his pod as well, waving at his brother and nephew, both of which were starting to have tears roll down their cheeks. “That it? Then let’s go,” Zarbon said triumphantly, and they all stepped onto the doors to their pods. They gave some voice commands and the pods slowly rose into the air, Zarbon and Radditz waving as they rose. Zarbon sighed and smiled. Their departure was so anticlimactic after their hectic stay on Earth, and that’s just the way he wanted it. He grinned at the crowd below and kept waving, truly thankful for their hospitality. Then the door to the building swung open violently and his eyes widened. He had spoken too soon about their uneventful departure.

---

Bulma hadn’t been able to sleep well, in fact not finally falling into a restful slumber until the wee hours of the morning. She had tossed and turned, thrashed and rolled, and all due to the fact that she couldn’t drive Vegeta from her mind. Every single moment she had spent with him crossed her brain, and she realized that even when they fought she was still sort of having fun. He challenged her- he didn’t take what she dished out and he demanded her best. No one had ever done that before. Then there was the way he was- proud, cold, strong- and that appealed to her as well. He was her definition of hard and manly, a good complement, she felt, to her hard womanhood. She was strong and he actually understood that, apparently liked that, and he actually goaded her instead of pampering her. She had never been treated like that before. True, he was a jerk, but when he had come in that night and kneeled before her she knew that he was a passionate jerk. He was too multifaceted for her to be able to make any blanket statements about him. She didn’t know if she loved him, because he really had treated her badly, but she knew she was more physically attracted to him than to anyone in her entire life and felt incredible pain when she thought of him leaving without her. Besides, space might be fun, and she always had wanted to be a princess. She laughed to herself- if it got too bad she could always come home. She was positive he’d help her, because if the situation deteriorated he would probably be just as sick of her as she was of him. She was still thinking about it when she went to sleep.

Bulma awoke to the sounds of many people outside. Growling, she turned to the side and clamped the pillow over her head to drown out the noise. She was tired, dammit, why were they making such a ruckus? What was going on out there anyway? She rolled around on her bed, trying to ignore it, for several more minutes before getting up and shuffling to the window, running a hand through her tangled hair. Squinting against the light of dawn she peered out her window, seeing practically everyone she knew gathered around three space pods, in front of which stood Zarbon, Vegeta, and Radditz. She watched as Yamcha came up and shook hands with Zarbon, and several words were exchanged. Gohan was starting to wail and reach for his uncle Radditz, but Goku held him back. Vegeta just stared straight ahead, face looking like carved marble and not nearly as warm. Then she knew what she wanted; knew with the clarity of the sunrise that she wanted him. She looked out the window to call to him, but, to her horror, the pods began to rise. He would never hear her over their noise. Swearing, she turned and grabbed a robe and went flying from the room.

---

She hadn’t even shown up. She had never really wanted him in the first place. He had committed a grave error, and he was glad that he had never revealed his plan or his actions to Zarbon. The dull, cold ache in his chest was there, however, and he knew that he had better hurry up and kill Freeza before he died of the separation. He had heard that happens, sometimes, when one doesn’t agree...The Earthlings’ heads were below them now, and he was thankful they would be far away from him soon and not have to see his humiliation any longer. No, he would be free among the stars until his death. Look at them, the fools, waving their hands and shouting goodbyes, as if any of them had ever been truly close. He was about to turn and settle down in his pod when the door to the building flew open and the woman, Bulma, burst through it like a bullet. She sprinted towards him, teeth bared and a look of intense concentration on her face. Nearing the pod, she parted the crowd of gasping spectators and launched herself into the air, her eyes fixed upon the edge of his pod. “You fool,’” he whispered to himself. “You’ll never make it.”

There her fingers were, tenuously gripping the edge of the pod’s door, her feet dangling down into the air as the pods continued to slowly rise. Her fingers began to turn white, and he looked over the edge, curious. “Help me up, dammit!” she shouted, and without hesitation he reached down and pulled her up so that she stood before him, the wind whipping around her little silken robe and nightie.

“What do you want?” he growled, his hard gaze narrowing.

“You,” she whispered, putting her arms around his neck slowly. “I’ll marry you, but we have to do it here.”

His eyes softened but he did not smile, the way he lowered his lids and looked downward a telling sign enough. He raised his black eyes to her and took her in with a deep breath. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

“No,” she admitted. “You’re a stupid, arrogant, crabby asshole-bastard. I’m not sure I want to have anything to do with you right now, let alone forever, but I couldn’t stand the thought of never seeing you again, so my heart must know something the rest of me doesn’t.”

“It’s difficult to listen to your heart,” he murmured, slowly wrapping his tail around her waist. “Zarbon!” he shouted suddenly. Stop the ascent. We’re going back planetside. he ordered his two companions mentally.

“What?” Zarbon mouthed, golden eyes rounded with shock.

We’re going back down. Now. Vegeta replied.

Why, my lord? Radditz asked.

You’ll find out when we get there. Vegeta’s mouth curled a little bit in the tiniest smile, his stomach starting to feel normal when she threw back her head and laughed. The pod began to travel downwards and she looked at him, blue gaze suddenly very intense, and she leaned forward to kiss him. “Not in front of everyone,” he hissed, and she roughly pushed him back into the pod. He sighed and wrapped his arms around her, crushing her to him as he sought her lips and, for the first time in his entire life, kissed somebody. He kissed her deeply and urgently, making her sigh and close her eyes. His gloved hands slipped over the silky fabric of her clothes as he ran his fingers up and down her back, and she kept letting him kiss her. It was wonderful, he realized, almost as good as fighting. She pushed away from him and stood up, her gaze still burning as she wiped her mouth.

“You’re good,” she murmured.

“I’ll get even better,” he said quietly, then stood himself. They had landed again and everyone was staring at them, the eyes of every single group member as big as dinner plates. He smiled and stood next to Bulma, his tail still draped around her waist although no other part of him touched her. “We have an announcement to make,” he said loudly.

“We’re getting married!” Bulma squealed, jumping up in the air and clapping her hands.

Zarbon looked over at them in shock. Goku jumped up in the air and whooped, raising a fist towards the sky, then quickly rushed over to Radditz’s side, where the taller Saiyan looked as if someone had just made him swallow a boulder, punched him the stomach, injected him with poison, and now he was going to throw up the whole lot. A thump was heard from the crowd and Zarbon realized Yamcha had just passed out.

Bulma turned to Vegeta and put her hands on his shoulders, leaning against him. “You know,” she whispered, “You’re not going to love me like I want you to.”

“No,” he agreed. “But I’m going to give you everything you know you need.”

She beamed and pressed her cheek against his briefly. “I can’t wait for the honeymoon,” she said into his ear.

“Honeymoon?”

“A trip that married people go on after their wedding. To spend some time alone. Naked.”

He felt his chest tighten and his cheeks began to burn. “Oh,” he said numbly. “Is it very far away?”

“It happens wherever you want,” she said slyly.

“Well, we need to get this done with quickly. How soon can we be married?” he asked, gently stepping out of her grasp.

“Mom and I will need about three days for the dress, a couple for catering...four days, I think. People owe us some favors,” she replied.

“And a week for the ‘honeymoon’ trip,” he murmured.

“You want to take a whole week?” she said, blushing.

He shrugged, aware that people had started to murmur to each other and they needed to tend to the crowd. “Yes. Once we’re back as the heads of the Empire we won’t have as much time for...things...” he said awkwardly.

“Okay, I have to talk to Mom,” she said, quickly pecking him on the cheek and prancing over to her parents. Vegeta put his hand to his face where she had kissed him, startled. Was public affection a big deal on Earth? If so...ick. He didn’t have affection for anyone, let alone in public. He wiped off his cheek and turned to find Zarbon marching over to him, glaring at him with cold golden eyes.

“What in the hell do you think you’re doing?” he hissed.

“I’m marrying the Earth woman,” Vegeta replied casually.

“Why?” Zarbon wailed. “Do you what this means?”

“Yes. It means she’s mine for the rest of her life,” Vegeta said firmly.

“You’re also hers for life. Doesn’t that bother you? To be possessed like that?” Zarbon said through his teeth.

Vegeta shrugged, lowering his eyelids halfway in an expression of nonchalance. “I was hers anyway, Zarbon. You don’t understand how Saiyans do things, that’s all. She’ll never make good on her possession in any way that would hinder me, and Freeza was a far worse possessor than anyone on this planet could ever be.”

“Fine, that may be, but you’re not taking the Empire into consideration,” Zarbon snapped.

Vegeta looked around with an air of boredom. “Hmph. What was I supposed to do, in your warped opinion?”

“You’re the Emperor. You could have used your single, marriable status to your advantage with difficult worlds,” Zarbon said sharply.

“I would never do something like that,” Vegeta said indignantly.

“You only do what you want anyway and never consider the consequences,” Zarbon snarled. “You stupid, selfish man.”

Vegeta fixed Zarbon with a level stare. “If I didn’t do this I would have wasted away and died, Zarbon. Did you know that? Is that what you wanted?” he said coldly.

Zarbon blinked and narrowed his eyes. “Of course not. You know that. But marry her? Now we’re here for several more days at least!”

“A week and four days, maybe five, to be exact,” Vegeta said calmly.

“Oh my god!” Zarbon gasped in alarm. “You’ve committed us to that much time here? Are you insane?”

“That’s how long it will take them to set up the ceremony and for us to go on our honeymoon,” Vegeta replied.

“You, of all people, are going on a honeymoon?” Zarbon asked with a raised eyebrow.

“You spent the last several months sleeping with every woman you could get your blue hands on and you want to deprive me of one week with one woman?” Vegeta said.

Zarbon was silent for a few minutes. “Fine. Do what you want. You will anyway. I just don’t know why you can’t just sleep with her and get it over with. You’re fixated on this marriage thing.”

“It’s what she wants,” Vegeta replied. “And it will let the Earthlings know that I have claimed her. Whatever I do with her after that will be protected by the upcoming ceremony.”

“Like drag her off to foreign planets?” Zarbon said sarcastically.

Vegeta nodded. “Precisely.”

“Oh, for the love of...fine. I give up. Do you need my help?” Zarbon said with a sigh.

Vegeta tilted his head. “Yes. I imagine we’ll need to make appropriate preparations as well. Find out what I am required to wear and do and report to me within the hour. We’ll start from there.”

“As you wish, my Prince,” Zarbon said with a sigh, and moved off to talk with Bulma’s parents.

---

Zarbon stopped outside the door, pressing himself against the wall and nearly ceasing his breathing in order to hear what was going on inside the room. He had been nonplused when Vegeta wasn’t to be found in his room, but when Zarbon had extended his newfound ki-sensing ability he was absolutely shocked to find that the Saiyan Prince had gone to Bulma’s bedroom. The two were inside now, and his brow creased as he concentrated on what was happening within.

“So Mom already arranged the church...” Bulma said, rustling something.

“I have to wear another of those tux things?” Vegeta said with disgust, apparently sitting down as the creaking of a mattress reached Zarbon’s primed ears.

“Yes. You have to look nice,” Bulma said, still rustling.

“I am not wearing it,” Vegeta grumbled.

“Vegeta! You have to!” Bulma cried, slamming something down.

“No, I don’t. I’ll wear whatever I damn well please. This is my wedding too,” he replied sharply.

“Then whatever are you going to wear?” Bulma shrilled, and Zarbon could hear papers being balled up violently.

“I’ll find something. Ceremonial armor or whatnot. I am an emperor, woman, in case you forgot, and have formal clothing at my disposal. I can’t believe you’re stupid enough to have let that slip your feeble mind once again,” he sneered.

“Shut up!” Bulma cried. “Oooh, you’re impossible. Well, maybe I’ll just wear ceremonial armor too, eh? Would you like that? Having your wife show up in Saiyan armor at your wedding?”

Zarbon heard Vegeta snort. “That would be ideal. That’s the way it would have been, if...” he said, voice trailing off and turning the room still with his icy silence. Zarbon strained his ears harder. “Well, what were you going to wear?”

“I’m still going to wear it. You couldn’t pay me to show up in armor to my own wedding,” Bulma grumbled, and Zarbon heard pages turning. “See, something like this, but with a fitted bodice and no straps.”

There was a brief silence. “Oh. Well, that’s all right, then,” Vegeta muttered. “But I am not wearing a tux.”

Bulma growled. “We’ll talk about that again later,” she snarled. “Now, as I was saying earlier, Mom arranged the church...”

“I’m not going to get married inside one of your asinine religious temples,” Vegeta declared coldly.

“What? Why not?” Bulma protested angrily. Zarbon sighed and shook his head.

“Saiyans don’t get married inside. In fact, they only rarely get married at all. No, we will be married under the stars.”

“You not only don’t want to get married in a church but you want do to it at night? Are you insane? When will the reception be?”

“I take it your Earth reception and the Saiyan feast wouldn’t be too terribly different,” Vegeta grumbled. “We’ll just have a brief little event afterward.”

“But I’ll be cold outside at night! It isn’t the middle of summer anymore!” Bulma objected.

“Is that all you’re worried about?” Vegeta snarled, his tone of voice rising slightly. “Being cold? Hell, woman, I could take care of that from fifteen feet away!”

“But I want this to be perfect, Vegeta, and you’re screwing it up!” Bulma said, voice at the fringes of shouting volume.

“I’M screwing this up? You’re the damned difficult one! I’m wearing the armor because I AM a visiting dignitary on this planet, and I want your weakling friends to remember that. You’re the one that’s so set on some sort of mass-produced wedding! My damn planet was destroyed when I was a boy and I’m doing the best I can to recreate something from my heritage. Saiyans were always married under the light of the moon, but since your planet lost its satellite the stars will do. Yet you want to deny me even this! You not only condemned me to a sleepless night after your implied refusal but also are trying to separate me from the only history I have left, and now you’re telling me that I am the one ruining everything?” Vegeta bellowed.

There was a stony silence for long moments. “How do I know I can trust you?” Bulma replied softly at last. “Before you said you hated me. You wanted me dead. How can I be certain that this isn’t just some bizarre Saiyan honor thing where you can’t really just kill helpless women you’re dealing with, so you have to marry them to have the right to kill them?” she countered.

Zarbon could almost feel Vegeta’s teeth grinding. “You doubt my motives?” Vegeta said quietly, voice laced with daggers.

“Yes,” Bulma said confidently. “I most certainly do.”

“You want to know why I asked you to marry me,” Vegeta repeated.

“Absolutely. Do you love me?” she asked.

“No,” Vegeta replied without hesitation. “If I didn’t marry you I would die.”

Zarbon couldn’t help but gasp, scowling. What was Vegeta talking about? Unfortunately for Zarbon, the sound of his inhalation was just enough to alert Vegeta to his presence. Vegeta stuck his head outside of the door, making just enough noise to give away his position to Zarbon, who promptly fled from the door. Vegeta scowled as he saw the tip of Zarbon’s braid whip around the corner. He grunted and reentered the room to confront the scowling form of Bulma, who had her arms wrapped around her waist and was glaring at him with all her might.

“Oh, that’s a great excuse,” she said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “How in the hell am I supposed to buy that?”

“Because it’s the truth,” Vegeta said, voice hard.

“So you’re not even marrying me because you want to, but because you have to,” she said, voice breaking.

“Yes,” Vegeta replied.

Bulma’s eyes welled with tears. “How could you do this to me?” she screamed, throwing all manner of things at his head, including one of the lamps that happened to be nearby. The room grew dimmer as she plucked the lamp from her dressing table and unleashed it at his face. He ducked to the side nonchalantly and raised an eyebrow as the glass shattered on the wall behind him. “Oh my god, you horrible, horrible man,” she sobbed. “Don’t you care about me in the least?”

“You don’t understand. I’m not surprised, really, considering how thick-headed you’ve been about everything else,” he said coldly.

“And then you insult me!” she wailed. “Fine, Vegeta, if this is the way it’s going to be then the wedding’s off! Get your ass back into your tiny little pod and get the hell off of my planet! I never want to see you again!”

Vegeta stood his ground, looking at her with roiling black eyes. “Is that what you really want?” he said calmly.

“Yes. Get out of here,” she said, body wracked with shuddering sobs. “It’s my turn to hate you forever. Maybe I have the right to want you dead now.”

“I didn’t exercise my power to kill you,” he said defensively.

“You didn’t have to. You killed me just now,” she choked, turning away from him and putting her hands over her face.

“A separation now will kill me,” he said casually. “I will suffer a slow, lingering death.”

“That’s why you want me with you, so you can save your own skin?” she shot back, wiping at her eyes with the backs of her hands.

“I have never been afraid of death. You know that,” he replied calmly.

She stood with her back to him, not replying.

He sighed. “Do you love me, Bulma?” he asked suddenly, voice soft.

Her eyes snapped open wide at his use of her name. “What?” she murmured, turning to show him her tear-reddened face.

He walked up to her, uncrossing his arms from his chest. “I asked you if you loved me,” he repeated, his expression remaining emotionless.

“Say my name again,” she said softly, looking up searchingly into his eyes.

“Bulma, answer me,” he said, the volume of his voice lowering further.

“I don’t know if I love you, Vegeta,” she said, reaching her arms around his neck and pulling him to her. He let her do it, even though he remained awkward and stiff in her embrace. “All I know is that I want you to always be near to me. Promise me that you won’t die.”

“I can’t promise that,” he said gruffly, trying to extricate himself from her grip.

“Promise me,” she insisted. “Promise me or I won’t come with you.”

“That will kill me for sure.”

“Then tell me why.”

“I can’t. Not yet.”

“Promise me, Vegeta.”

“Fine. I promise I won’t die right away.”

“No!” she protested. “That’s not what I asked! Promise me you won’t die until I do.”

“But you’ll probably die of old age like all you soft humans seem to, living on and on past your usefulness,” he replied.

“I don’t care. Promise me.”

“I can’t, Bulma. Not yet. Come with me anyway and we’ll see what I can do. You have to understand,” he said, voice rough. It was the closest he had come to begging in his entire life, and it felt sour in his stomach. Why was he doing this for her? He really would waste away, that was now beyond his control, but that was no excuse for his behavior. He cursed his luck once again for ever having to come to Earth.

Her blue eyes remained locked onto his for long moments. “Well, Vegeta, I guess it will have to do. I’ll have the rest of my life to figure you out, won’t I?” she murmured, removing her arms from around his neck and instead grabbing him around the waist.

“You’ll never figure me out,” he growled. “You humans don’t have the mental capacity for it.”

“Then it’s a good thing you’re marrying a genius,” she sneered playfully, running her hands down to the base of his tail and refusing to be goaded.

He shuddered as she touched his tail, closing his eyes and leaning into her touch. “Ah,” he said, the noise a breach of his self control.

A wicked sparkle came alive in her eyes. “Oh, like that, do you?” she said softly, pressing up against him. He kept his eyes closed and leaned his head back, breathing deeply.

“No,” he groaned, his head snapping down and his eyes opening to seize her with a burning glare.

“Aw, are you sure you don’t like it?” she whispered, touching her nose to his and rubbing them together, almost letting their lips come into contact.

“No,” he breathed. “I meant that this isn’t the time.”

She pulled back, looking at him askance. “We don’t have to wait until after the wedding,” she said gently.

The skin underneath his eyes tightened in alarm. “We will,” he said sternly, and pulled her off of him. He held her arms against her sides and as far away from him as the length of his arms would allow, his dark eyes scrutinizing. Then, without warning, he quickly leaned in and brushed his lips against hers briefly, the simple action leaving her stunned and breathless. “Good night,” he whispered, and disappeared from her room.

---

45/ Bulma’s Hideout / 47