Chapter 20
Bulma awoke late the next morning to the sound of birds singing outside her bedroom window. Yawning, she threw back the covers, swung her legs out, and hopped to the floor.
The subsequent agonized yell resounded throughout the entire house. Bulma had completely forgotten about her injury.
There was a sound like a freight train making its way down the hall outside her door, and then suddenly the door swung open as Vegita bounded in - snorting and stamping like a mad bull.
"What in the name of seven hells happened?!" He yelled, staring wildly at the scene before him.
Bulma was still on her feet, but she was quite bent at the knees, and very hunched over. Her fists were clenched so tightly that her knuckles were white. Her eyes were shut as tightly as possible, with tears streaming abundantly from them. And to top the whole thing off, she was quivering like an old washing machine on spin cycle. In all honesty, she looked rather like she was about to pass a gallstone, and if Vegita hadn't been so frantic, he might have burst out laughing at the ridiculous sight she made.
"What's wrong?" He demanded. "What happened? God dammit, woman, answer me!"
Slowly, Bulma straightened herself up, and as she did, she lifted her left foot up until it was well off the ground. Opening her watery eyes, she grinned awkwardly at Vegita.
"Er…" She faltered. "Well, I um… I kind of forgot about my foot being hurt and jumped down on it. Sorry. I didn't mean to alarm you."
Vegita looked like someone had just pulled his plug and deflated him. And at first, he seemed to have lost his capacity for speech. But finally, he managed to summon his words in the form of some nice, fiery yelling.
"And just how in BLAZES," he roared, "could you manage a stupid thing like that?"
Bulma flinched, but in a rather impressive recovery, gave a somewhat high-pitched laugh. She limped a few paces back and forth across the room and smiled approvingly. "My foot doesn't hurt as much as it did yesterday," she mused, touching it gingerly to the floor. "I didn't really notice any pain until I jumped down on it. I guess that's how it happened."
Vegita growled and shook his head in obvious disgust. "It is beyond me how any one woman can harbor so much idiocy," he grumbled at her.
"Oh, stop griping and get out of here," Bulma scolded him, waving him away with both her arms. "I need a shower and a change of clothes, and I'm not going to get either with you here lecturing me."
Vegita shot her a fiendish grin. "What's wrong with what you're wearing now?" He said silkily, eyeing her from head to foot.
Bulma looked down at herself and promptly turned bright red. She'd forgotten that she was still wearing her bikini. "How… how dare you!" She stuttered indignantly, making a pathetic attempt to cover herself by folding her arms. "Haven't you any decency at all? You're a barbarian; that's what you are!"
Vegita laughed. "You're the one who decided to wear it," he pointed out with a wicked grin. "What's wrong with my enjoying the view?"
"You…! You ANIMAL!" She yelled breathlessly. By now even her neck and shoulders had flushed a little. "Don't you DARE stand there and try to tell me that I wore this because I WANTED you to gawk at me, you pervert!"
"I didn't say that," Vegita replied coolly. "But now that you mention it, that might explain why you chose that particular garment…"
Bulma was so angry that she couldn't even speak. But she could act. She picked up her brush, her shoes, and a book, and - one at a time - hurled each one at Vegita. Of course, he simply stepped out of the paths of her projectiles; such primitive methods were easily dealt with by his defensive abilities. Bulma knew that, but she didn't care.
"Out!" She finally croaked as she hurled the last item at him. "Get out, now!"
Laughing at Bulma's embarrassment, Vegita finally relented and left. Bulma, now seething, flung open her closet and yanked out a change of clothes. Grumbling furiously, she stumbled out into the hallway and limped into the bathroom to take her shower. She would have given her left foot to be able to stomp there.
Despite the high temperature of the water, Bulma's shower did wonders to cool her down. She left the bathroom smiling, and she limped down the hall to fix herself something for breakfast.
"Hey, what are you doing?!" Vegita asked her incredulously when he walked in to find her frying a nice big pan of sausages, and turning over an enormous pile of hash browns in another pan.
"What do you mean?" She said, turning around and looking at him in surprise. "I'm cooking breakfast, of course!" When Vegita just gaped at her in dumbfounded silence, she laughed. "Well, I don't know about you," she chuckled, "but I'm starving! I didn't get any dinner last night, so I'm especially hungry this morning."
"You shouldn't be on your feet doing stuff like this!" Vegita exclaimed, bristling in anger. "What the hell is the matter with you, woman?"
"Oh honestly, Vegita!" Bulma laughed. "My foot's not as bad as that! Sure, it's still a bit tender, but I can walk on it now, at least. It's not such a big deal for me to make us something to eat."
Vegita scowled. "You're a terrific pain in the ass, you know that?" He grumbled.
"Yeah, I know," Bulma laughed. "Just be careful though, Veggie-boy. If you don't watch yourself, I might get the idea that you give a care." And with a rather impish wink, she turned back around to work on their breakfast.
A few seconds later, Vegita curled his hands around her shoulders and leaned his face up next to hers. "You're the one who needs to be careful," he whispered softly in her ear. Then he gave her a long, gentle kiss on her cheek.
Bulma's eyes popped open in surprise, and as he stepped back away from her, she touched her face where he had kissed her. The color swiftly rose in her cheeks, but she looked up at him anyway, her expression one of confusion, with perhaps just a trace of fear.
"W- what was that for?" She stammered, clutching the spatula in her hand a little more tightly.
Vegita shot her a wicked smirk. He was apparently pleased that his actions had had such an effect on her. "And I suppose you think you're the only one capable of such things," he said loftily. He turned to walk away. "Your food is burning," he added idly on his way out.
"Gah!" Bulma cried in dismay as she turned to find black smoke curling out of her potatoes. She furiously scraped them out of the pan and onto a plate, before they could make the transition from Cajun to carbon. Then she did the same for the sausages. Still quite red in the face, and panting angrily, she limped over to the table and set the plates of slightly blackened fried food on it.
"Whew," she sighed, sitting down. "Hey! Vegita!" She called. "Breakfast is… er… very done!" She looked at her burnt sausages and hash browns and sighed. She could already tell it was going to be one of those days.
She didn't look up at Vegita right away when he came in, but when he dumped two entire armfuls of fruit on the table, her head didn't remain lowered for very long. She gasped as she looked at the variety of fruits Vegita had gathered. There were mangoes, papayas, guavas, limes, and even a couple bunches of bananas. She looked up at Vegita in astonishment.
"Last night I picked all of these for breakfast," he grumbled with an irritated scowl. "Of course, you needn't eat any of them if you'd rather eat THAT." He pointed to her rather charred meal with a jerk of his thumb.
Bulma was too astounded to feel insulted. "This is incredible!" She cried. "I had no idea there were so many edible fruits growing on this island! You ARE amazing, Vegita!"
"There are more than that," Vegita remarked casually. "But I'm unfamiliar with the plant life of this planet. I don't know which ones are safe to eat. I assume you can shed some light on that."
"All of these are!" Bulma exclaimed excitedly. "And they're really good, too! The heck with this," she said, dumping the sausages and hash browns in the trash without ceremony. "We're eating YOUR breakfast today, Vegita!"
They ate all of it, with the exceptions of the bananas - which weren't quite ripe yet, Bulma said - and the limes - which Bulma had commandeered to make limeade. And Bulma told Vegita that she'd never had such a lovely breakfast as the one he'd brought to her. His only reply had been an indifferent grunt, but had she looked up to see the smug look he wore while she cleaned up their mess, she would have known that he had been thoroughly satisfied with her reaction to his offering.
After Bulma had finished cleaning up, she asked Vegita where he had found the limes. "I'd like to get some more," she explained. "With limes this fresh within reach, it'd be a shame not to make a good limeade."
Vegita said he could show her where he'd found them, so Bulma limped off to the hall closet to get a basket. When she came limping back, Vegita was waiting for her at the door.
"Okay Vegita," she said, smiling brightly at him as they went out the front door. "Lead the way. But try to be a little more patient with me than usual. I'm not going to be able to get around as quickly as I usually can."
Vegita smirked derisively at her. "Weakling," was all he said before sweeping her up into his arms and taking to the air with her.
"Vegita!" She cried, clutching at his neck involuntarily. "For heaven's sake, Vegita, is this really necessary?"
"If you want to get back within a couple of hours it is," he snorted. "If we had to wait on you, I doubt we'd even get there before noon."
Bulma made a face at him. "I think you're just doing this so you'll have an excuse to hold me again," she said testily. "I know I could fly today if I were careful. I certainly won't be able to show you if you insist on hauling me around like a sack of potatoes, you big oaf!"
Vegita smirked at her again. "Don't flatter yourself," he jeered. "I'm only reducing myself to this so that you can gather your stupid fruit and I can go back before the day is out. Why the hell would I WANT to carry a pathetic weakling like you around like this?"
This time it was Bulma's turn to sneer. "You tell me," she said, tapping his nose lightly with one finger. "I just thought I might point out that you HAVE been doing it a bit frequently lately, your highness."
Vegita only gave her a harrumph as his reply. Bulma giggled. For once, he didn't have some witty insult to bounce back at her. But her mirth was short-lived, because she suddenly realized the gravity of her own argument. He DID seem to be doing this a lot lately. And he really didn't seem to mind, either. But that wasn't the worst part of it. The worst part of it all was that SHE didn't really mind, herself. As a matter of fact, she actually kind of liked it. Something about being in Vegita's arms made her feel strangely safe and secure. It felt so comforting that it actually scared her. Or, to be more to the point, what that might mean scared her. Could she actually be falling for Vegita? No, she thought with a nervous smile. Such a thing wasn't possible.
Was it?
Vegita flew her to a small grove of citrus trees on the opposite side of the island. He landed lightly on the ground among them, and then set Bulma back on her feet.
"Amazing," Bulma breathed, limping up to a tree and plucking a lime from it. "There must be thirty or forty of these trees here!"
"Hmph," Vegita grunted, obviously not very impressed. He walked over to one of them and, crossing his arms, leaned up against it and watched Bulma impatiently.
Grinning, Bulma split the lime she was holding in half, and she tasted it. Her face puckered up immediately. "Perfect," she said, shaking it off. She tossed the halves aside and looked up.
"The ones at the top look enormous!" She gasped, shading her eyes from the sun. "I'll bet they're sweeter too!"
Vegita smirked. "Too bad your arms aren't longer," he jeered at her. "Pity. Poor little weakling will have to settle for the lower branches."
Bulma made a face at him. "I can fly too, you know," she said saucily.
Vegita arched an eyebrow. "Can you?" He asked.
Bulma only stuck her tongue out at him in reply and, grinning, looked back up at the tantalizing citrus fruits dangling mere feet above her. Grasping the handle of her basket more tightly and licking her lips, she tensed her muscles a little. As long as she was careful, she had nothing to worry about. She just had to focus.
Slowly and carefully, Bulma floated up toward the higher branches of the tree to which she was nearest. Her foot hurt like hell, but she had resolved that she wasn't about to give up her freedom of movement any longer - pain or no pain. Besides, she knew full well that the toxin from the jellyfish wasn't going to propagate, and that moving her foot around wasn't going to make it any worse - even if she did have to grit her teeth to do it. Bulma was a very stubborn individual, and she wasn't about to let some brainless jellyfish ruin HER vacation!
Slowly and methodically, she worked her way around the nearby trees, picking the biggest and most tempting of the fruits hanging on the branches. After a good thirty minutes, she had filled her basket with the most delicious-looking limes she'd ever seen.
"All right," she said, looking triumphantly at Vegita. "This'll be plenty. With limes like these, I feel like I can make the best limeade in the world!"
Vegita just grunted and glared impatiently at her. "Are you finished then?" He growled. "You certainly took your time picking those damn things."
"Oh, be quiet," Bulma said with a dismissive wave. "It didn't take me all that long."
"Feh," Vegita snorted. "In the time it took you to creep around those trees and fill that little basket of yours, I could have plucked the whole lot from them and laid it all out in front of the house. You're such a slug!"
"Well excuse me!" Bulma retorted. "See if I let you drink any of MY limeade then!" She added huffily, crossing her arms and sticking her tongue out at him.
Vegita stifled a laugh. "I'm filled to the brim with remorse," he said with a sneer.
"You'll see," Bulma said slyly, shooting him a self-satisfied smirk. "I may not be much of a cook, but I'm a whiz at making drinks. And fruit drinks," she added, hefting a particularly large lime in one hand, "just happen to be my specialty!" And without so much as another word, she took to the sky - a bit more slowly than usual - for the house.
Without a moment's hesitation, Vegita shot up alongside her. "What's the matter with you?!" He bellowed. "Are you insane?! You can't just fly around like this with that kind of injury! At this height you could do some serious damage to yourself if you lost your control!"
"Oh Vegita!" Bulma laughed. She couldn't help it. He was so earnest about what he was saying that he had forgotten to make an effort to hide his concern. And she thought to herself that he was being really sweet, despite himself. "I'll be all right! Sure, it hurts like the Dickens, but it's not something I can't stand. Don't worry about me. I can handle it."
Vegita's cheeks flushed a little as he realized she'd caught him, and he promptly crossed his arms and scowled. "I wasn't worrying about you," he snapped at her. "Don't misunderstand me. I just don't want to have to hear you whining at me when you're paying for this later on. That's all."
Bulma smiled and shook her head. Vegita's favorite excuse for showing concern was always that he didn't want to hear any of her "whining." The ironic truth of the matter was that she never whined about pain or discomfort nowadays - especially around him. One of her greatest pet peeves was his finding a new cause to point out her weaknesses. So of course she knew that this whole "whining" excuse of his was just a big load of baloney.
"I'm not going to whine about it," she chuckled. "You can rest easy, Vegita, knowing that your ears will be spared this time."
Grumbling, Vegita turned his head away, seemingly in disgust. Bulma chuckled and shook her head again. Poor Vegita. Sometimes, he just couldn't win.
They flew back to the house without another word. Bulma figured she'd give him a break for once. He HAD taken her to the limes without much complaint, after all. And Vegita must not have had much to say, because he didn't offer any more comments either. At any rate, when they arrived, they went in without speaking too. But the silence didn't last after that.
"Now then," Bulma said, hobbling into the kitchen with her precious cargo. "Time to squeeze some limes!"
Vegita followed her and leaned casually against one side of the doorway so that he could watch. She got a large pitcher from inside one of the cupboards and set it next to the basket on the table. Then, after grabbing a knife from the silverware drawer, and a sieve from the cabinet next to the stove, she sat down and began her task.
As she sliced the first lime in half, she finally looked up at Vegita, who was still watching her from inside the doorway. "Er…" She faltered, noticing the way he was eyeing her. "Did you need something from the kitchen, Vegita?"
"No," he said rather brusquely. When he didn't elaborate, Bulma was forced to press for more detail.
"Well," she said awkwardly, "what DID you want?"
"Do I need a reason to stand in a particular place at a particular time?" He asked rather testily.
Bulma laughed uncomfortably. "I suppose not," she said with an apologetic grin. "Forget I asked." She looked back down and tried her best to appear absorbed in what she was doing. "Vegita's acting more strangely than usual," she thought to herself as she sliced a lime into fourths. "He hasn't stared at me like this in a while…" She risked a furtive glance up at him as she squeezed the contents of a lime wedge into the sieve over the pitcher. "He's creeping me out a little here."
She tried to concentrate on the limes. Carefully squeezing each wedge one at a time, she made her way through the basket of limes, all the while very much aware that Vegita's eyes were still on her. After what seemed like hours, she had finally squeezed all the juice she was going to get out of the limes. Then she got up and, being careful not to look up at Vegita, went to the cupboards to get the other ingredients she needed. Then, once she'd found all of the rest of her materials, she set about adding ingredients to the recently squeezed lime juice.
Vegita watched all of this with a cool, calculating eye, with one corner of his mouth twitching upwards in a slightly off-center smirk of amusement. He was fully aware that he was making her uncomfortable, and he was very much enjoying watching her squirm.
Finally, Bulma had finished mixing, and her creation was all but complete. She had but one ingredient left to add, and that was cooling. She put the pitcher in the refrigerator, and, deciding that the inevitable could be avoided no longer, she slowly turned around to face Vegita.
"Well," she announced, trying to make her voice sound normal but failing miserably. "I'm done. It just needs to cool for an hour or so. We'll have some with lunch."
Vegita didn't reply. He just stayed there, still leaning nonchalantly up against the doorframe, watching her with bright eyes. His staring was unnerving, but his silence was unbearable. Bulma was beginning to get a little frustrated. Just what was the deal with him, anyway? He obviously wanted something, but how the heck was she supposed to know what it was?
"Oh for heaven's sake, Vegita!" She exploded at him, throwing her hands into the air in exasperation. "You've stood there in that doorway for the past half-hour staring at me and not saying so much as a word! Now I know that the chances are pretty slim that you're just interested in the limeade. So what is it then? If you want something, then tell me! I'm not a mind-reader, you know!" A nice shade of red had risen in Bulma's face during this little tirade, giving evidence to the fact that she was more than just a little bit flustered and embarrassed.
Smirking slightly and shaking his head, Vegita walked over toward Bulma. She took an involuntary step back, but he grasped her by her shoulders and held her still. "Idiot," he said quietly. "There's only one thing I want. But for the time being, all I CAN do is stare. You ought to know that after all this time." He was holding her firmly so that, try as she might, she couldn't shuffle away from him. Bulma looked nervously into his eyes. He was gazing fiercely at her with that same hungry look that she'd seen so many times before. She sighed and, closing her eyes, turned her face away from him.
"Vegita," she said in a soft, reproachful voice, gently pushing against his chest in an effort to get him to let her go.
"I haven't given up on you," he continued, tightening his grip on her shoulders. "I've said before that I wouldn't."
"Vegita, please," she begged, looking up at him imploringly. "Please don't."
"Then say that I disgust you," he replied fiercely. "Tell me that you can't stand anything about me. Maybe then I'll consider easing up on you a little."
Bulma looked helplessly up at him. "You know that isn't true," she said, her voice barely a whisper. "Why do you have to make this so difficult?"
Vegita pulled her more closely and nuzzled her cheek. "Because," he said quietly, holding her firmly against him. "I love you." He lightly brushed her neck with kisses, sending a shiver down her spine.
Bulma's eyes opened wide in astonishment so powerful that at first, she thought her legs had given out on her. She couldn't believe what she'd heard.
"Y- you… you what?" She said faintly, losing much of the color from her face. "Say that again?"
Vegita gently leaned back away from her a bit so that he could look her in the eyes. "I love you," he said again, staring calmly and unwaveringly at her.
Bulma saw the raw, unmistakable conviction in his eyes, and all doubts of his surety flew from her mind. "I think I need to sit down," she said weakly.
Vegita pulled her close again, and Bulma hung rather limply in his arms, overcome and immobilized by her own shock. She just didn't know how to handle this.
"Does it really upset you so much?" He asked, kissing her tenderly on the forehead. Bulma tried to lower her head farther, but could do no better than bury her face in his chest.
"I didn't know your feelings for me were so strong," she said in a muffled and rather choked voice. "You said you wanted me. You never said you loved me."
Vegita smiled slightly. "No, I suppose I didn't," he agreed. "I guess I didn't really want to admit it then. But I see no reason to hide it any longer. You have my word as proof that it is true."
Bulma shook her head and gave a choked laugh. "And here I didn't think it was possible for things between us to get any more complicated," she said, looking up at him and forcing a weak smile.
Vegita gazed solemnly back at her. "In what way do you find it complicated?" He asked her calmly.
Bulma laughed softly and shook her head at him. "I only assumed what you felt toward me was a simple, physical attraction," she said quietly. "It was easier to try to ignore that. But this is a whole other ball game." She looked down again and lines of worry appeared on her forehead. "Only one other man has said those words to me and meant it the way you do," she said, clenching her fists as they rested on his chest. "And at the time, I knew - deep down - that I didn't feel the same way about him."
"And what about now?" Vegita urged her.
Bulma bit her lip to keep it from quivering. "I don't want to say," she said at last. "It wouldn't be fair of me to tell you when I don't even know myself what it means."
But Vegita wouldn't be so easily satisfied. "I demand to know," he persisted. "Don't think you have to protect me by holding your tongue. If I had been afraid to learn the truth, I never would have said anything to you. I won't give up, no matter what you say to me now. So you might as well just tell me."
Bulma sighed. "Uncertainty," she said at last. "Indecisiveness. I'm nervous and excited all at once, but I have no idea what it means. I've never felt this way before." She looked up at him and gave him a gentle smile. "I like you, Vegita," she admitted. "More than I cared to admit for a long time. But I'm not sure why, or just how much. You just kind of snuck up on me, you know? Maybe you're right about my guard being lowered too often." She glanced down again as her cheeks began to flush. "I- I know I like you, Vegita. But I… I don't know if I love you, or if I don't." The redness in her cheeks deepened and spread, and she lowered her face even farther. She hadn't really intended to tell him so much. It had just come out. She didn't know why.
Vegita didn't smile, but the gleam in his eyes showed how pleased he was with Bulma's response. He tilted her face up by her chin until it was level with his own, and he stared calmly into her eyes.
"It's a fair start," he said simply, and he pulled her toward him and kissed her long and full on the lips.
Bulma's eyes shot open wide in alarm at first, but Vegita's remained closed in calm, quiet contentment. Bulma's mind swam, and tears welled up in her eyes. She could feel her resistance beginning to fail her, and she knew that a part of her really wanted this. She had been resisting him for so long, and she had grown so very tired of it. And now, she finally gave in a little. Bulma did something that she had never done before. She closed her eyes and kissed him back. And for once, she allowed herself to enjoy it. She knew she liked Vegita, and the truth was that she had very little willpower left to resist him now, with his warm, protective arms around her and his lips pressed against her own. For the briefest of moments, she felt all of her doubts and worries melt away, leaving only peace and happiness in their wake. She had never felt such absolute freedom from her cares and worries.
Without even realizing she was doing it, she lifted her arms and wrapped them around Vegita's neck. Understandably, this surprised him a little, but he didn't let it distract him in the least. He snaked his arms around behind her and pulled her body up against his, never breaking contact with his lips. Her responsiveness had indeed surprised him, but not enough to break off his kiss.
They remained in that embrace for several minutes, holding one another and kissing. But eventually, Bulma pulled her arms down from his neck to his chest, and gently pushed them against him so that she could break off the kiss. They opened their eyes and gazed at each other in silence for a few moments.
Bulma's calm and happiness was quite short-lived. A bit dazed at first, she stared back into Vegita's eyes, and when she saw the fierce desire burning in them, she suddenly became afraid. What had she done? Maybe she had wanted to kiss him, but that didn't mean that it had been the right thing to do. Even now, she still didn't know what was, but she did know one thing: she had to get out of there. She had to get away from him before she did something she'd regret later.
"I… I have to go!" She cried, wrenching herself away from him and making a break for the door. Ignoring the searing pain in her foot, she ran out the door and down the path to the beach with all the speed her legs could summon, having already begun to lose control of her emotions. She staggered over to the rocks at the edge of the beach, and flung herself onto the sand behind one of the larger ones. Sobbing loudly, she buried her face in her hands and shook her head. What had she done? How could she have been so reckless? She had NEVER intended to lead Vegita on like that. But what could she do now? The damage had been done. She had let him think that she wanted him just as he wanted her, and she knew that he was going to pursue her even more ferociously now as a result of her carelessness. What was she going to do?
Shivering and still sobbing, she pulled her knees to her chest and buried her face in them. What was wrong with her? Why was it so hard to resist him? Did she just have a weak will? That couldn't be it, she thought angrily. There must have been a valid reason for her to give in to him so easily. He must have caught her off guard somehow. But she knew, even as this thought occurred to her, that it wasn't true. She had seen him coming, and yet she'd still opened her arms to him willingly, even if only a little. Why was her resistance failing her?
Bulma raised her head, and stared anxiously out at the waves crashing on the reef beyond the shore. She was so tired of walking the same mental path about this. Every time she seemed to be coming to the end of it, she shied away, afraid of what she was going to find. Well, it was time to stand her ground. She had to find out the truth, no matter what it might be. Just what did Vegita mean to her?
Bulma closed her eyes and thought about him. She thought about the way he always criticized her, insulted her, and called her weak. She thought about how he rarely had a compliment for her, and how he always scoffed at whatever she did. She thought about what a jerk he was, and how sometimes she just couldn't stand him.
But then she thought of how angry he'd get when he thought she was going to do something dangerous. And she thought of how worried he'd looked yesterday when he pulled her from the water. She thought of how he'd saved her life three times on Namek, and had turned off the gravity machine to save her here on Earth. She thought of how much he really cared about her, and that even though he was reluctant to show it, he seemed at times to care more about her than he did himself. She thought of the warm comfort she felt when she was in his arms, and of the soft, gentle way he held her. She smiled as she thought of how, even though he tried his best to hide it, he really worried about her sometimes. And Bulma closed her eyes and even gave a soft laugh as she remembered how he'd melted when she gave him her kiss of thanks for choosing to stay here with her. In his own way, Vegita was a sweetheart. And she cared for him. She really did.
Now Bulma began to enter territory that had before scared her into another thought pattern - anything that didn't relate to her feelings about Vegita. She set her jaw and opened her eyes as she explored the unexplored depths of her own feelings. Yes, she cared about him. But how much? She had to know. It had now become the most important thing in the world to her, whether she realized that or not. Had Vegita become more to her than she cared to realize? It was time to find out the truth.
Bulma took a deep breath as she tried to sort herself out. There was no longer any doubt in her mind that she found Vegita attractive. Today had proven that to her. She liked him. And she wanted him. But did she love him? She knew that he was in her thoughts all the time, in one way or another. She knew that whenever she woke up in the morning, he was there in her mind. And when she went to bed at night, he was there too. She tried to imagine what her life would be like today if she'd never met him, and she honestly couldn't. She tried to imagine what she would feel like if he suddenly disappeared, never to return, and the agony of the thought struck her so violently that she thought a hammer had hit her in the head. He had become a part of her life, slowly but surely. And he had become a part that she knew she didn't want to give up. So what did that mean? Did it mean that she loved him? She honestly didn't know. She did know that she'd never felt this way about anyone before, and that she couldn't say if it was love or not, since she had never felt that kind of love before, either. Even if it was love, she wouldn't have been able to recognize it as such. There was only one thing to do. Before she could do anything else, she had to find out what it was; this feeling she had for Vegita.
A good two hours and no progress later, Bulma finally steeled her courage and went back to the house. If she was going to find out for herself, avoiding him wasn't going to help. She couldn't be a coward about this. So she went back, her face slightly pale, but with a very determined expression.
She found Vegita sitting in one of the chairs outside on the patio when she got back. He got to his feet when she came walking up, but he didn't say anything. Bulma suddenly felt that awful feeling you get when you know that you really owe someone an apology.
"I'm very sorry for the way I acted, Vegita," she said, looking down at her feet and fumbling nervously with her fingers. "I lost my head for a moment, but I needed some time to think. I've had that time, but I'm going to need more. I'm sorry."
Vegita didn't smile, but nevertheless his eyes gave away the relief that was there. "I understand," he said gravely. "Are you all right?"
Bulma looked up at him, and she realized that he must have thought that he had done something wrong. She smiled at him. "I'm fine," she said reassuringly. "I just surprised myself, that's all."
Vegita grunted in reply. Bulma could see that he wasn't altogether convinced.
Later that afternoon, Bulma fixed them a light barbecued lunch, and they ate quietly together out on the patio. It had been clouding up a bit lately, and the sun wasn't as fierce as usual, so it was a nice day to eat outside. And although Vegita didn't openly admit it, they both thought Bulma's limeade was a great success. It was indeed quite delicious, and they both had second and third helpings of it with their meal.
Still, all through lunch, Bulma didn't say a word. Instead, she stared at Vegita long and hard, seemingly trying to figure something out. Vegita, however, paid no attention to her at all, and instead ate his meal calmly and quietly. It was plain to see that Bulma's staring at him didn't have nearly the effect on him that his staring at her had on her. But none of this really entered Bulma's thoughts as she sat there and stared at the quiet man sitting across the patio table from her. He apparently didn't mind, so she could stare at him unhindered.
Bulma was, in reality, trying to work out the very same quandry she had been pondering all afternoon. But she kept getting hung up on the same thing. She just didn't know how she could know for sure if it was love. How could she be expected to recognize something she'd never experienced for herself?
Vegita, on the other hand, hadn't appeared to have had any doubts when he announced his love to her. She wondered how he had been so sure of himself about it. How did he know? She'd never really suspected that he might even know what love WAS, much less that he could feel it for her. She would have given anything to know how he was so certain.
Finally, after taking a long draught from his third glass of limeade, Vegita looked calmly but observantly up at Bulma. "You want to ask me something," he said, gazing fixedly at her. It was neither a question nor an invitation. It was merely a statement, and nothing more.
Bulma sighed and shook her head. "How do you KNOW?" She said at last, glancing up at him with a nervous but determined look. "How do you know that you love me, Vegita? Do you even realize what love means?"
"Of course," he replied with a solemn nod of his head. "It means that I want you to be my life partner. I want you to be mine alone, and I to be yours just as exclusively. I won't settle for anything less."
At first, Bulma was a bit shaken by his calm but poignant words. Until now, even she hadn't fully realized the true magnitude of Vegita's declaration.
"Y- you really mean it," she said faintly, sinking a little in her chair. "You want me for your wife!"
Vegita eyed her for a moment before speaking. "Wife," he said, evidently unsure of the exact meaning of the word. "If by 'wife,' you mean the woman with whom I intend to spend what remains of my existence, then yes. I want you to be my wife."
Bulma buried her face with her hands and slowly shook her head. Vegita actually meant it. And he knew exactly what he was saying. "But WHY?!" She asked, her voice cracking a little. "I wouldn't make you a good wife at all, Vegita! I'm certainly not the world's best cook, and I'm not really one of the prettiest women around either." She looked back up at him in a sort of desperate sincerity. "And you've even said yourself what a weakling I am. I've got a list of faults that couldn't fit on a list a mile long. So why, Vegita? Why do you think you love me?"
"First of all," he said, looking sternly at her. "Let's get one thing straight. I don't THINK I love you. I know. And secondly, I'll grant you that your culinary artistry is most definitely NOT your most refined skill. But even if the dishes you prepare don't taste the way you want them to, I very much doubt they'll poison me. And," he said, eyeing her more conspicuously now, "I should think that by now you would have realized that I happen to find you more than just a little enticing." His eyes traveled the length of her figure several times, and Bulma blushed in embarrassment. "And as for your being a weakling," he said, looking her squarely in the eyes without so much as a blink. "Granted, you are a weakling in most definitions of the word, but by earthling standards, I suppose you couldn't really pass for one. I myself have seen to that."
Bulma, still a good deal flushed, looked downward to avoid his stern gaze. "But how do you KNOW?" She asked quietly. "How can you be so certain that you love me? Surely you have SOME doubts!"
Vegita sighed. He was beginning to look rather irritated. "Why do you find it so difficult to believe?" He snapped at her. "Do you really think I would lie to you about something so important?"
"Well no," she stammered, swiftly shaking her head. "That isn't what I meant! I mean… well, that is…"
"You are my first thought when I wake up in the morning," he said fiercely. "And the last when I go to sleep. Dammit, woman, I can't even train without thinking of you. Do you realize how badly I want you? Do you?!" He sprang to his feet and planted his palms on the table with such force that Bulma jumped. "I don't know what your definition of love is, but that happens to be mine. And I can tell you with all the certainty of my being that I'll not be able to have a shred of peace until I know for a fact that you feel the same way!"
Bulma's heart was pounding so hard that she was sure he could hear it. Hearing those words had triggered a strange epiphany in her mind. It was the same! It was the same as her feelings for him! Bulma lost a lot of her color, and she gripped the arms of her chair so tightly that her knuckles had gone white. It suddenly made sense. That was why she couldn't bear to think of life without him. That was why she found it so hard to resist him. He had snuck into her heart without her even realizing it. She really was in love with Vegita!
"Oooh…" She moaned, going rather limp in her chair. She suddenly felt so drained and weak. But she was finally certain. Somehow, hearing Vegita's description of what he was going through had brought everything into crystal clarity for Bulma. She finally knew for sure how she felt. She KNEW. And that gave her such a euphoric sense of peace that, at first, she could do no more than sit weakly in her chair and dwell on it as she waited for her mobility to return to her.
"What is it?" Vegita asked, noticing the way she had slumped over. "What's the matter?" He stepped swiftly around the table and shook her a little by her shoulders.
Bulma laughed a soft, gentle laugh, and she smiled affectionately at him. "It's finally happened," she sighed. "I've finally figured it out. You and I," she said, placing one hand on his chest, and the other on her own. "We're so much alike, Vegita. I've felt the same way for so very long. It just took me longer to understand. You have to realize that this is all terribly new to me. I simply didn't recognize it the way you did. It wasn't until just now, when you described it to me, that I finally understood. I… I love you," she said, raising her hand and softly touching the side of his face with her fingers. "I love you. And I want to be with you. I don't want you to ever leave me."
Vegita seemed at first unable to believe her. He lifted his own hand and cautiously touched hers, as if he was afraid he might undo what had just happened. But then, grasping it tightly, he nuzzled her hand with his cheek and drew in a ragged breath. "I've waited so long to hear those words," he choked out. "Please say them again."
Bulma rose out of her chair and, giving him a gentle kiss, wrapped her other arm around his neck. "I love you," she whispered softly in his ear.
Vegita groaned and pulled her to him, nearly crushing her in his arms. "I've waited so long," he said again, clutching her to him as if he'd never let her go. Bulma sighed and wound her arms around his back. She felt so indescribably happy all of the sudden. She felt she could hold him like this forever.
"Never," he whispered hoarsely. "I give you my word that I'll NEVER leave you."
Bulma didn't answer. Instead, she held him more tightly and showered his neck with kisses. They held onto one another like that, barely moving, for what seemed to them to be mere moments, but was actually a good half-hour. Even when the sound of distant thunder began rumbling from the west and steadily grew in volume, they didn't loosen their hold on one another. Only after it actually began raining, and had progressed to the status of a fair downpour, did they finally break apart and go into the house.
The good soaking she'd gotten had brought Bulma down to Earth a little bit, and she scowled as she went into the house. "Rotten weather," she grumbled, shaking her hair out a little. "The heavens have rotten timing today."
Vegita, who had followed her in, curled his arms around her from behind and pulled her up against him. He kissed her ever so lightly behind her ear, and then he nibbled it a little.
"Vegita!" Bulma shrieked, abruptly pulling her head away. No one had ever done that to her before, and it really took her by surprise. It made a shiver run down her spine, and goose bumps pop up on her arms. Her face flushed almost instantly, and, looking back at him, she smiled awkwardly. "Er… you kind of took me by surprise, Vegita," she stammered.
Vegita shot her a devilish smirk, and he turned her so that she was facing him. "I was going to say that you can hold your complaints," he said, brushing some of the damp hair out of her face and gazing hungrily at her. "I'm certain I can think of a few things we can do to keep us both amused for a few hours," he cooed, shooting her a wicked grin.
Bulma realized what sort of amusement Vegita had in mind, and the blood in her veins instantly turned to ice. Her mind raced, and she felt like there were a million butterflies fluttering about in her stomach. "I… I… um…" She stammered, looking up at him as her face began to pale. "That is, I…" She didn't know what to say. The truth was that yes, she loved him. But she hadn't even given a thought to sharing herself with him completely yet. And now that she did, it really scared her. She didn't know why; she knew that she trusted Vegita with her life. But just the same, the thought of his making love to her terrified her. But what could she do? How could she tell him she wasn't ready, when she'd just a few minutes ago told him she loved him? She didn't want him to think she didn't want him in return, and she most definitely didn't want him to know of how frightened she was of what he was asking for. She looked helplessly up at him, but the words just wouldn't come.
Her face twisted in anguish, but she knew she had to say something. "I… I…" She stammered, beginning to tremble in his arms. "I DO love you, V- Vegita! B-but I just… I…" Tears began to well up in her eyes. "I'm sorry, Veg-…"
Vegita put a finger to her lips to silence her. "Don't," he said, frowning and shaking his head. "Don't even think of apologizing. You've done nothing to be sorry for. If I had bothered to think first, I might have guessed on my own that you wouldn't be ready for that yet." He gazed at her with regret in his eyes, but Bulma mistook it for disappointment.
"Please don't be disappointed!" She cried frantically. "It's not that I don't find you attractive, Vegita! I do! But I'm… I'm… so scared!" She broke down completely then, and she buried her face in her hands as she sobbed into them, no longer able to restrain her tears.
This was too much for Vegita. "No, no, no!" He said, pulling her to him and kissing her tenderly on the forehead. "I'm not disappointed at all! There's no reason for you to cry so!" He gently pried her hands from her face and wiped her tears away with his fingers.
"If you're not ready, then we will wait until you are," he said reassuringly, giving her a soft, gentle kiss on the cheek. "I love you, and I would never harm you. You have no reason to fear me. Somehow, I will win your trust."
Bulma looked down again. She was so ashamed of herself. "I do trust you, Vegita," she said sincerely. "I'd trust you with my life! It's just that I'm so unsure of myself. This is uncharted territory for me, and I don't really know what I'm doing. I'm not afraid of you. I think what I'm most afraid of is the act itself," she said, biting her lip in embarrassment.
Vegita tipped her head up by her chin and looked her in the eyes. "Then we will wait until you are ready," he said soothingly. "I certainly won't force you to do something you aren't prepared for, and I won't have you forcing yourself. But just so you know," he said quietly. "You've no reason to be afraid. I would do nothing to harm you; you know that. I give you my word that when the time comes, I will be incredibly gentle with you." He gave her a slow, soft kiss on her lips and then gazed fiercely at her. "And when the time comes," he added, "the pleasure I will bring you will soon make you forget whatever discomfort you might have initially." He then pulled her to him again and traced a line of sensuous kisses from the side of her neck on down to her shoulder. Bulma shuddered as shivers of pleasure raced down her spine. She couldn't deny - even to herself - that she wanted what Vegita wanted, even if she was afraid of it. But sure enough, just as she was beginning to relax, more anxieties and doubts came bubbling up to the surface. What if she didn't enjoy it as much as he thought she would? Or even worse, what if HE didn't enjoy it at all? She didn't know anything about pleasuring a man. She certainly couldn't count on herself to please Vegita in such matters. She couldn't bear the thought of such an awkward situation. She wanted to be able to please Vegita, in this as well as in many other things.
"I want to," she said softly, kissing him back. "But… I don't know how…" She blushed furiously in embarrassment. "I… er… I don't think I'll be able to give you that kind of pleasure." By now her face had become a bright shade of scarlet, and when Vegita leaned back to look her in the eyes, she looked down in embarrassment.
Vegita smiled, despite himself. "Baka," he said reproachfully. "Do you think I consider your lack of experience a flaw? Fool!" He chuckled, shaking his head at her. "The fact that no man has ever touched you does not dampen my desire for you, and it certainly won't detract from the pleasure I'll gain in making love to you!"
Bulma smiled nervously, but the color in her face did not subside. She looked up at Vegita rather shyly, and he smirked at her. Strangely enough, his simple and somewhat scornful words had managed to dispel her doubts. She loved him. And she trusted him. And now, although she was a little jittery, she felt that she was ready to give herself to him without fear.
"I've never felt this way about anyone," she said softly, looking down again but smiling just the same. "I love you, Vegita," she said again. She looked back up at him, and there was warm affection in her smile, but no trace of fear anywhere on her face. "I want to share everything with you," she said shyly. "And I'm not afraid anymore. I would trust you with anything. W- will you be my first… and only?" She asked timidly, her cheeks turning a furious rosy red.
There was no mistaking the raw, fierce desire burning in Vegita's eyes as he gazed at the shy, blushing face of the woman he loved. It took all the willpower and restraint he had to say what he knew he had to. "Not until I know that you're ready," he said quietly, his eyes still blazing with desire. "You haven't had time to consider it yet. Only seconds ago you were trembling like a leaf at the merest mention of giving yourself to me. You need to consider this with a clear head, and I'm afraid that's something you don't have at the moment."
Bulma smiled at him - a smile of pure adoration. "Oh Vegita," she sighed. "However long I consider it, my wish will remain unchanged. But I will wait, and I will give it serious thought. I just want to make you happy."
She smiled at him again, and Vegita very nearly lost control of himself. "God, woman!" He said through gritted teeth, nearly crushing her as he pulled her to him. "Do you have ANY idea what you're doing to me?"
Bulma didn't answer him. There really wasn't anything she could say to that. Instead, she laid her head on his shoulder and rested her hands against his chest. She would wait if he said she should, and she would do what he asked and think seriously about this. All she wanted now was to please Vegita. For the first time in her life, her own comfort wasn't the top priority of her existence. Up until this point, she had been a normal, selfish human being - living with the sole purpose of preserving her own comfort. Really, that isn't as bad as it sounds, considering that it is the case of every other human being for much of his or her life. It's in the nature of humans to be selfish. But love is a funny thing. It somehow makes a person move beyond his selfish nature and shift the priority to the other person involved. Even Vegita, although he wasn't human, and was an undeniably selfish person, had laid aside his own desires to ensure the comfort of the object of his affections. Love, in its truest form, is one of those rare things in our universe that is constant. No matter whom it touches, it always manages to override whatever personality traits used to be dominant - whether good or bad. But in the fortunate case in which this powerful force touches two people and is directed from one to the other - and vice versa - there forms one of the strongest bonds anywhere the universe over. And although it had taken a long time for Bulma's end to surface, at long last, another of these extraordinary bonds had been formed.
On to the next Chapter!
