“Damnit Vegeta!” Bulma screamed, “Why must you insist on peering over my shoulder like this? If you don’t trust me to do this properly, then either do it yourself or at least have the decency to stay out of my way!” The gravity machine was broken, yet again, and Bulma was out fixing it, with Vegeta peering constantly over her shoulder to make some snide remark or another.
“Just trying to make sure you don’t sabotage it.” Vegeta sneered back, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He began to pace lightly back and forth. “And besides, every time I leave you alone with this thing, it doesn’t get fixed for days.”
“Well if you didn’t break the thing so damned often then I wouldn’t have to fix it so often!”
“If this thing wasn’t such a piece of crap then it could handle a little more of my strength!” Vegeta roared, and the usual argument began. It seemed that every time the gravity room broke, which was all to often, this same squabble was repeated, like the two were simply puppets in a favorite play, destined to act out the same scenes over and over for all eternity.
“Shut up Vegeta! Just shut up!” Bulma screeched. Just as Vegeta was about to respond, she held up a hand. “The damn thing is fixed you ass. Thanks to yours truly.” she dropped the screwdriver she had been holding, and picked up a wrench. “Now, if I just tighten this valve right here, then this baby will be ready to go.” She reached in carefully, so as not to get her arms tangled in the mess of wires, and turned a valve. Suddenly, the spherical ship began to shake and rumble.
“What the hell did you do?” Vegeta yelled, trying to brace himself. A large tremor rocked the ship, and Bulma’s small body was thrown into Vegeta’s, sending them both crashing to the floor.
“Ready to launch in 5…4…3…” A mechanical voice droned.
“Shimatta! When I reset the gravity controls I must have done something wrong!” The human woman jumped up and skittered over to the control center of the ship. “Come on! Come on!” her fingers flew over the keyboard, furiously typing in override commands.
“IIE IIE IIE! I said stop! Stop, damn you!” Bulma screeched, pounding her tiny fists on the metal.
“Blast off!” The mechanical voice droned on, and the two occupants could feel the ship starting to lift off the ground. Bulma screamed, neither one of them was strapped in, or even wearing pressurized suits to handle the insanely high altitudes to which they would be traveling before leaving the atmosphere.
Suddenly, Bulma found herself squeezed into a very small space, and she blinked, realizing that Vegeta’s arms were holding on to her tightly. “Hold on Woman, and don’t let go.” He growled softly. He had realized that there was not enough time to get both of them suited up and strapped in, so he grabbed the human female and dove under a console, using it to brace himself.
“But Vegeta, what about the gravity?”
“Damn it! Shut up!” The Saiyan no Ouji screwed his eyes tightly shut and erected a ki field around himself and Bulma, to lessen effects of the pressure on their bodies.
Bulma clung tightly to her Saiyan savior as the ship rocked and bounced up and out of Earth’s atmosphere. She began to feel quite dizzy though, and passed out in Vegeta’s arms.
“Shimatta!” He swore, feeling himself drift to the brink of unconsciousness as well, and unable to stay awake any longer, he surrendered himself to the black abyss.
“Kami…What happened?” Bulma moaned, stretching her limbs out. Her muscles felt bunched up, and her nerves were all over the place. “Vegeta?” she murmured. “Where are you? Where am I for that matter?” It was then that she realized she was in a bed. Not her own bed though. She blinked twice, and looked around. “I’m still in the spaceship. How long have I been out of it?” Bulma reached up to scratch her head, and winced as she came into contact with a tender bump on her skull. “I must have bonked myself during that takeoff…”
She crawled out of the bed and padded over to the small bathroom, to examine her head in the mirror. It was just bruised, no bleeding. “Vegeta must have put me in that bed after he woke up. I wonder if he’s hurt at all.”
Bulma padded out of the small bedroom and pulled herself up the rungs of the metal ladder onto the main deck of the ship, to see Vegeta standing at the console. She felt better, seeing that he was all right, and knowing that he knew what he was doing with this ship, having taken it out to space several times before for training missions. It was the same ship he always used, even thought it had had to be rebuilt after the damage it had suffered on the particular trip where he managed to transform into a Super Saiyan.
“How long was I out?”
“That doesn’t help me Vegeta.”
“Well I only woke up two hours ago myself.” He growled, tapping a couple of keys on the console. A large screen popped up, and on it Bulma could see millions of stars flying by.
“Man, this ship goes fast.” She murmured, knowing that the image she was seeing was being transmitted from tiny cameras on the outer hull of the ship. Vegeta grunted his agreement. “Where are we anyway?”
“Well, the ship’s readings say that we’re in the Tental Quadrant.”
“And where is that?” Bulma put her hands on her hips in the typical ‘tell me now or I screech’ fashion.
“A hell of a long way from home.”
“Well, how far exactly would you say we are from Chikyuu?” Bulma questioned, trying her hardest to fight the jelly-like sensation in her knees.
“I’d say it’s about 3500 Givlets.” Vegeta responded, watching as Bulma began to tremble lightly.
“Wha…What’s a Givlet?” she murmured, dropping heavily onto one of the padded benches that lined the wall. “How many kilometers?”
“I don’t know.” Vegeta sighed softly. “Givlets are the standard measuring system in most galaxies, and I’m not sure of the conversion into metric.”
“Well, how long do you figure it will take us to get home? I have a very important meeting tomorrow at work and I can’t miss it!”
“Well, at the speed this ship travels it wouldn’t take us more than a few days, a week at the most, if we were to conserve fuel. There’s not a lot left in this thing.” Vegeta patted the console lightly with a gloved hand. “If we went any faster we’d run out before we could make it into Chikyuu’s atmosphere, and we’d most likely end up floating around out here till we crashed into something.”
“Well then, turn this bugger around and let’s go home!” Bulma screeched, and the Saiyan winced lightly, resisting the urge to cover his ears.
“I’ve been awake for two hours, you idiot! Don’t you think I’ve tried that already?” Vegeta growled.
“Idiot? Can idiots make spaceships? I don’t think so!” Bulma screeched, then paled lightly. “Wait, what do you mean you’ve tried turning us around already?”
“I mean that there’s something wrong with this damn ship, and I can’t alter the course! And by the way, idiots do mess up while fixing ships and cause them to blast off into space!” The Saiyan prince left his spot by the ship’s controls and began to pace lightly back and forth. “I’ve studied the course we’re on right now, and I figure we’re on a collision course with the planet Imtor. Hopefully, you didn’t mess up the landing gear too.”
“Shut up.” Bulma snapped. “I don’t want to be blamed for all this.”
“It is your fault.” Vegeta retorted, casting an angry glare in her direction.
“Did I not tell you to shut up? No,” she held up her hand, stopping Vegeta, as he was about to say something. “I have a terrible headache Vegeta. Please don’t yell at me, and just tell me what Imtor is like.” she sighed, putting a hand lightly on the large bump on her head.
Vegeta growled, turning his back to the human woman. “Imtor is a fairly nice planet, I’ve been there only a few times. The people are gentle for the most part, hostility is rare. When we arrive there, you must be very careful though…”
“Why? What’ll they do to me?”
“The males are highly dominant in Imtor society, and the women subservient. Men do as they please with the women, and being ‘married’ as you would call it is a very rare occurrence. Women are seen as little more than objects of pleasure, and are used freely, without worry.”
“You mean they…they’re…sex slaves?” Bulma gasped.
“Not quite.” Vegeta chuckled lightly. “Seeing as the women are pleasured as well, they do not object to being used like common whores. It pleases them, and as they have no worries about getting pregnant…”
“What do you mean no worries about getting pregnant?” Bulma cut Vegeta off, ignoring his indignant scowl.
“Imtorites have the unique ability to control whether or not they become pregnant after intercourse.” Vegeta finished his sentence, slightly amused as Bulma’s eyes widened. “So, you see, the males of Imtor would not understand that you do not, and they will be highly offended if you choose to decline an invitation for sex.”
“What…What will I do? I…I can’t, no, I won’t be some alien’s little whore!” Bulma began to panic, seeing no possible solutions to this problem.
“Relax, will you?” Vegeta growled. “While we are on Imtor…” the now hysterical Bulma cut him off again.
“What? What?” She screeched. “Are you saying that I’m supposed to just LET them ravage me like some sort of cheap prostitute? I won’t Vegeta! I’d rather die!”
“SHUT UP!” Vegeta roared, pushing her down onto the bench. “Calm down, for Kami’s sake.”
“I…Gomen nasai.” Bulma murmured, her cheeks turning a delicate shade of pink.
“While we are on Imtor,” Vegeta began again, “you and I will have to pretend to be mates.”
“Wha…What do you mean we have to pretend to be mates?” Bulma screeched. “I don’t get it!”
“If you are that stupid…” Vegeta sighed and rolled his eyes. “It means, in your Human terms, that while we are on the planet Imtor, we must pretend to be husband and wife.” With that, he turned and stalked out of the room, heading towards the enclosed gravity chamber.
Two days later, Bulma was still in a bit of a trance. Mates? We have to pretend to be mates? I don’t even like the guy! Though he is kind of cute…more like hunkarific…but he’s such an asshole…and what kind of word is mates? What are we? Monkeys? Hmmm…I suppose that does make sense…
Suddenly, a loud clatter erupted from behind, and Bulma jumped around to see Vegeta standing in the middle of a pile of pots and pans. “Woman…May I ask what in hell these pots are doing in my way?” he growled.
“I…err…” she stuttered, blushing. Vegeta wore no shirt, and that’s enough to make even the most pristine nun sweat. (Author’s note: I really hope that no one finds that offensive, as it is just a saying, and I certainly don’t mean it to be offensive.) “I was just making dinner, and I had to dig through all these cupboards and then I guess I kinda forgot to put everything away…”
Vegeta snorted, and kicked one of the pots in to a wall with a loud clang. “As long as the food is edible…” he shrugged.
“What’s with you anyway? You’ve been holed up in that gravity chamber so long I thought you had died. I was about to have a party.”
“Who would you invite? The pots and pans? Sounds super fun.” Vegeta snickered, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Besides,” he cut off the snappy remark she had been about to say, “We’ll be landing soon.”
“Landing? Soon? How soon?” Bulma squeaked. “Will they have technology to fix the ship? Can I get some new clothes?”
“Yes, yes, a few hours, no, and yes.”
“Good! I was getting tired of wearing your clothes.” Bulma giggled, tugging at the men’s cotton tank top she wore. Because their takeoff had been quite unexpected, she had not thought to bring any extra clothing out to fix the gravity room. Luckily, Vegeta kept several spare training outfits in the living area of the ship, not all of them spandex. “Wait a minute! They won’t have technology to fix the ship?”
“I already answered that particular question.” came the gruff reply.
“How the hell are we supposed to get home then?” Bulma wailed back.
“Calm down you idiot. Shimatta…humans. Imtorites do have the technology for space travel, but their ships are rather primitive, and not to mention slow as hell. We’ll borrow a ship from Emperor Borrin, encapsulate the one we’re in right now, and fly to the nearest advanced planet, where you can fix whatever the hell you did to this ship. Then we can fly back to Imtor, return their ship, and fly ourselves back to Chikyuu.” Vegeta made it all sound so simple.
“Umm…okay…” Bulma murmured. “If we’re going to land soon, I suppose I should put on something that’s not yours, right?”
“Hai.” Vegeta nodded, and Bulma scurried down into the bottom level of the spherical ship, to change into the clothes she had been wearing during takeoff, simple jeans and a Capsule Corp. shirt. Then she went back upstairs to eat dinner with Vegeta.
“20 minutes to landing.” Said a mechanized voice, startling Bulma out of her seat. She watched as Vegeta’s head emerged from the hole in the floor, which led to the living area of the ship. He hoisted himself up off the ladder, and padded lightly over to the ship’s control center. That was one thing she had noted about Vegeta, he didn’t stomp, as one would expect, but treaded rather lightly. A valuable trait when one tends to sneak around, like the Saiyan prince.
Vegeta kept a close watch on the visual screens, and the room was silent for a few moments, then he spoke. “While we are planetside, you are to show me the utmost respect.” he spoke calmly, as if speaking to a child. “If we are to appear mates, you must also show me affection, and hold that venomous tongue of yours. These people know enough of me to know that I would never put up with a disrespectful wench like you.”
“What exactly do you mean by affection?” Bulma questioned, her hands on her hips.
“If I offer you my arm, take it. If I pull you close, press yourself closer, and if I kiss you, kiss me back.” he stated, as if it were the simplest act in the world.
“K…Kiss?” Bulma paled.
“We are supposed to be mates, Woman, and mates do share that certain intimacy.” he looked at her. “Is that a problem, or would you rather I let them rape you?”
“I…I…No, it’s okay…” she fiddled with the hem of her shirt, too embarrassed to look him in the eye.
“I wouldn’t worry too much if I were you. I am not fond of public displays of affection.” Vegeta turned back to the controls. This statement, for some odd reason, brought a sinking feeling to Bulma’s stomach, but she did her best to ignore it as she strapped herself into her seat. They were to touch down in about ten minutes and she could feel the ship begin to rock and sway as it entered Imtor’s atmosphere.
“Vegeta, shouldn’t we have been concerned about our landing more than twenty minutes in advance? I mean, the ship should have started bouncing around like this long before now!”
“Baka.” Vegeta muttered in response. “Imtor’s atmosphere is considerably thinner than that of Chikyuu. If we had started rocking earlier, there would have been cause for worry.”
“Oh…” Bulma murmured, too embarrassed to bother retaliating against his insult. “Aren’t you going to strap yourself in?”
“Why?” Vegeta smirked, devilishly handsome. “Is the little human worried about me?” he teased.
“Hai.” Bulma huffed and turned away. Her frank admission of her concern though, had struck something in the Saiyan no Ouji, and he watched her for a moment in his confusion. He had certainly never done anything to deserve her concern, and it puzzled him as to why she should care about what happened to him.
Reluctantly, Vegeta turned away from the irritated woman and strapped himself into his own seat with a wary glance in her direction. No matter how much she pretended to care for him, he could not let himself fall prey to his own emotions. He would not allow himself to get closer to her; it would bring only pain.
The ship began to shake about violently, and Bulma let out a frightened whimper, trying her best to be strong in front of Vegeta. She would never hear the end of how ‘weak and pitiful’ she was if she allowed him to see how completely terrified she was. With a great thud though, everything was over, and she found herself sighing with relief.
“Are you going to get up, Woman, or just sit there all day?” came a gruff voice, and Bulma looked up to see Vegeta standing above her, arms crossed with the usual scowl on his face.
“Oops…” she flushed hotly, fiddling with the straps. “I can’t get the clasp open Vegeta…I think I’m stuck.” she looked helplessly up at him, bright red in her mortification.
“Kami, Woman.” Vegeta growled, then muttered something unintelligible, and in what Bulma assumed to be another language. He rolled his eyes and knelt down in front of her, two gloved hands reaching out to free her. He fiddled and pulled for a while, but seemed to have the same problem that Bulma had had. “What in hell did you do?” he grumbled, leaning his head down near her chest to get a better look at the stubborn straps.
“I don’t know,” she whimpered, piteously, followed by a sharp intake of breath as his spiky mane brushed against her collarbone and cheek. She squirmed uncomfortably as a warm heat began to form between her legs, a result of the Saiyan being so near to her. Unfortunately for Bulma, being so close allowed Vegeta’s highly tuned senses to pick up the change of scent in the surrounding air.
“So, the little human likes being tied up, ne?” he smirked up at her, a teasing glint in his onyx eyes. Bulma flushed hotly and turned away, squirming at the uncomfortable sensation as she tried to close her thighs tighter, as if it would prevent him from detecting her arousal. Vegeta chuckled and reached up to undo the clasp holding the straps over her chest, allowing his hand to brush sensually over her breast. He gave it a little squeeze, earning a gasp from the flustered human, smirked at her, and walked away.
All Bulma could do was watch as he strutted over to the ship’s control board, tail swishing lightly back and forth, the end curling upwards ever so slightly to avoid brushing the ground…tail? “Vegeta!” she gasped. “When…when did that grow back?” she pointed an accusing finger at the furry brown appendage.
“Oh, that.” he examined his tail with unabashed pride. “It was there when I woke up this morning. I was beginning to wonder when the bugger would grow back.” he turned back to the console and typed a few keys, and in a few moments, Bulma could hear the mechanical hissing sound as the door began to open, and a crack of light filtered into the room.
Bulma scurried to her feet as the door hissed open, brushing her pants off as she did so. The door was almost fully open, and she watched quietly as Vegeta prepared to step onto the ramp. “Iroshoin glamtro epehna.” He spoke, the odd sounds rolling easily off of his tongue.
“Iroshoin glamtro epehna!” came a chorus from outside the door. Curious to see what was going on, Bulma tiptoed quickly towards the door, poking her head out, looking over Vegeta’s shoulder.
“Roemol teppher?” Came a deep voice from the crowd of green creatures. There was a ripple of chuckles, and several suggestive leers from the obviously male beings. Bulma decided that she did not like the lecherous glances the men were sending her, nor the husky way in which they spoke.
“Ebelph kooriel tama.” Vegeta snapped, pulling Bulma roughly into his arms. “Terriph tookekn.” he purred, nuzzling her neck. Bulma flushed lightly at his touch, and a wave of good-natured laughter rippled through the group of men.
“Vegeta.” Bulma hissed. “What the hell is going on? I can’t understand a word you’re saying!”
Vegeta smirked down at her, then looked back up towards the green man who had originally spoken. Bulma decided he must be their leader. “Oobiph fenor wegre?” Vegeta inquired, and the man reached into a pouch hanging from his belt. He brought something small out and tossed it towards Vegeta, who caught it easily.
“What is that?” Bulma asked, eyeing the tiny microchip warily.
“It’s a translator.” Vegeta put it in her palm. “Take a look. It attaches to the back of your skull, just above the hairline. It sends information to your brain which converts Imtorite into your native language, which would be Japanese, and vice-versa.”
“I don’t know about this…” Bulma murmured.
“Kami, woman! Do you honestly think I’d let them put some sort of brain control device on you?” Vegeta growled. Bulma shook her head. “Flip your head over and I’ll put it on you.” Bulma did as she was told, and the crowd of Imtorite males watched in fascination as her hair fell like a shining waterfall. Vegeta smirked to himself as he pushed the aqua curtain aside, finding the right spot on the base of her skull. He pressed the little microchip down, and then wiggled it lightly to see if it would move. It didn’t. “You can flip your head the right way now.”
Bulma stood up straight, frowning as she tried to fix her hair with the absence of a mirror. She jumped as one of the Imtorites spoke. “It’s too bad,” he said, grinning, “that you’re Vegeta’s mate. We could have given you a good time.”
Just as Bulma was about to retort something fierce, Vegeta wrapped his arm around her waist once more, and cut off her stinging reply. “Feh.” he snorted. “I doubt that any woman well bred enough to be even considered as my mate would ever consider bedding with a creature like you.” There was another round of laughter, and even the flushed human female allowed herself a tiny giggle.
The whole group was moving soon, towards the Imtorite Royal Palace, home to the esteemed Emperor Boorin. The Imtorite equivalent of a car was quite comfortable, but there was little room for all the beings, so Bulma ended up spending the two-hour trip perched on Vegeta’s muscular thighs, with his arms wrapped around her. Bulma had to admit, even with all the hulking green aliens staring at her, that it was the most pleasurable two hours she had ever had.
Emperor Boorin was a great blob of a man, as Bulma found out upon reaching the palace. Luckily though, he was well mannered enough to avoid staring at Bulma, once he found out she was Vegeta’s ‘mate’ that is. The Saiyan no Ouji had quickly explained their situation, and requested the use of a ship, and new clothes, much to Bulma’s delight.
“Of course!” Boorin cried. “My servants will have some fine new garments made up for you and your lovely mate!” Bulma discovered that, although disgusting, Emperor Boorin was not an unkind man, and she favored him with a smile as he ordered his servant women to use only the finest silks and satins for her clothing.
A few hours later, after Vegeta had excused himself and Bulma on the grounds of fatigue, there was a knock on the door to their apartments. Two young servant girls entered the room, each carrying a carefully wrapped parcel. “Your new clothing.” they handed the parcels to Vegeta, and then excused themselves from the room.
Excitedly, Bulma tore open the papery substance in which her things were wrapped, and gasped in wonder as she pulled out several shimmery silk gowns, each one prettier than the last. She flushed hotly though, as the next item was revealed. It was a white silk nightdress, indecently small. No doubt, the Emperor of Imtor wanted Vegeta to be pleased with his mate’s appearance at all times. It was just that moment too, that Vegeta decided to come inspect Bulma’s gifts from Boorin.
Bulma turned to see his smirking face as he plucked the tiny garment out of her hands, examining it for himself. He turned it, this way and that, before finally holding it up to her body, smiling fiendishly at her pink face.
“It’s bad enough that we have to share a bed, Vegeta. But if, for one second, you think I’m sleeping next to a beast like you in a nightgown like that you are sadly mistaken!”
“All right then,” Vegeta chuckled, “you can sleep naked.” He tossed the silky thing back at her, strutting off towards their private bathroom, not before giving her plush bottom a good teasing squeeze though.
“Beast!” she called after him. “Pervert!”
“I’m going to change for bed now.” Vegeta called back, over his shoulder. “And when I come out, you had better be changed too, or else I’m going to have to change you myself!” Bulma took off her shoe, and whipped it at the now closed bathroom door.
“Ohh…That bastard!” she hissed, digging through the rest of the clothes in search of another, less revealing, nightgown. To her dismay, they was only one other item that she could possibly sleep in, and it was even skimpier. She did find though, several pairs of silky panties, however, all of them happened to be thongs, and a few lacy bras. She noticed something rather odd though. Aside from her new gowns, everything was a perfect snowy white.
Sighing, she tossed her new undergarments into a drawer of the elegant wooden dresser by the bed, blushing as she saw that Vegeta had already designated it the ‘underwear drawer.’ She didn’t know why seeing his boxers affected her so much now, after all, she had been doing his laundry for nearly a year! However, she had never bought him nice silky things like the ones neatly folded in the drawer. Again she noticed something odd. All of the boxers were black. Puzzling over this new discovery, Bulma hung her new gowns in the large wardrobe, being careful not to wrinkle them.
Clenching her teeth, Bulma picked up the wee little piece of silk she would be wearing for the night. Taking a quick look around, she peeled off her shirt, knowing that Vegeta was in the shower, because she could hear it running. Her bra followed suit and she slipped the garment over her head, enjoying the smooth feel of it against her skin. She pulled her jeans off from underneath and decided, at the last minute, to change her panties as well. It seemed such a shame to wear her flowered Hanes rather than one of new silky pairs, when sporting such sexy nightwear. Doing a quick check to make sure the nightie covered her behind, she slipped off the cotton briefs, replacing them with a white silk thong. “As long as I’m gonna look like a slut,” she sighed, “I may as well accessorize. Besides, I don’t want Vegeta to see me in my grandma panties.”
“What were you saying? Something about panties?”
Bulma whipped around to face the bathroom door, where Vegeta was standing in a cloud of hot steam, wearing only a pair of the black silk unders provided by Imtar’s Emperor. “Er…nothing. You must be mistaken.” Bulma stammered, backing away from his appreciative gaze.
“Me? Mistaken?” Vegeta laughed. “Woman, you should know by now that my Saiyan hearing is far superior to you little Human ears. I know perfectly well what you said.” He laughed again. “And you don’t look like a slut. You look like a woman who is ready and willing to please her mate.” Vegeta began to walk toward her, and she backed away, right towards the bed. “I’m glad to see you’re so eager.” he purred, as she fell backwards onto the fluffy cushion.
“Vegeta, stop it! This isn’t funny! It’s just mean!” she whimpered, protesting as the Saiyan no Ouji crawled onto the bed on his hands and knees and straddled her scantily clad body. His head descended to nip at her neck and shoulder. Bulma was torn between slapping him and urging him to continue. Then he began to move lower, stopping at the neckline of the nightgown, and looking up into Bulma’s eyes. Just as she was about to give him permission to go lower, he smiled down at her, a wide, cruel smirk.
“I can see your boobies.” He chuckled. Bulma’s eyes went wide, but before she could slap him, Vegeta had grabbed her and wrapped the both of them in blankets. The lights were out now, though Bulma did not know how it had happened. Perhaps Vegeta had set them on a timer or something like that when she wasn’t looking.
She could feel his strong arms around her, but, to her shocked dismay, she could not feel any sort of hardened bulge pressing into her. Trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, Bulma bent her knee and raised her thigh the slightest bit, allowing it to brush against his groin, but Vegeta caught on quickly. “Woman,” he whispered, “If I were aroused, you would definitely know it.”
Bulma flushed hotly and squirmed in protest, knowing that Vegeta was only holding her like this because he knew that tangled in his limbs was the last place she wanted to be right at the moment. All of this was just a big, cruel joke to him. “Let me go Vegeta.” she whimpered, pushing her tiny hands against his chest.
“Iie.” his eyes flashed in the dark, and Bulma felt one of his hands slide down on to her silk covered rump. His fingers pushed aside the silk of the nightgown and squeezed her bare flesh, making her jump as he pulled her hips tightly against his own. “I have excellent control over my body, Woman, and it would take far more than this to break it.”
He did not release her as she expected him to, but rather kept her pressed against him in such an intimate manner that she could not help but to want more. Desperately, she tried to block out these thoughts, so that her body might take a hint, and Vegeta would not end up catching the scent of her arousal. Vegeta seemed to take note of her stiffness, and so he shifted, making sure to grind his hips against her own, delighting in her whimper.
“Vegeta…” she whispered.
“Goodnight Woman.” Vegeta released her and rolled over onto his stomach, pushing her away to the side. “Sweet dreams.” he laughed softly.
“Take all of your clothes off and put this on.” Vegeta growled, tossing a bundle of white silk at Bulma. She caught it and let the material slide down through her fingers a bit, so she could see that it was a robe.
“Why?” Bulma asked, seeing that Vegeta was already wearing one. His was black silk, and went only as far as his knees, revealing heavily muscled calves. She licked suddenly dry lips as she noted how loosely he had tied it. The top was open just enough to reveal his broad tan chest, and the slightest bit of his rippling abs, but closed enough so that the robe would stay shut below the belt.
“Don’t ask questions Woman, just do as I say.” he grumbled, stalking out of the room so that Bulma could change before she had a chance to respond.
“Damn Saiyan, always telling me what to do.” she grumbled, pulling off her shirt and stepping out of her jeans. “If he wasn’t so strong why I’d put him in his place, yes I would.” Her bra followed, and she pulled the robe over her shoulders and tied the belt around her waist, noting that her robe only went down to about mid thigh. “Err…Vegeta?” she called, “Do I have to take off all of my clothes?”
“Yes! Woman, you need to clean your ears! Did I not tell you that two minutes ago?”
“Okay…” she murmured back, and if it had not been for Vegeta’s Saiyan hearing, he would not have heard her. Reluctantly, Bulma pulled off the skimpy pair of panties she had been wearing, and tried desperately to tug the robe down a little, fearing that if she moved the wrong way, her soft, delicate bottom would be exposed to some hentai Imtorite, or even worse, to Vegeta.
Stepping out of her bedroom, Bulma was too preoccupied with the indecent length of her robe to notice the faintly appreciative glance Vegeta cast in her direction. “Quit fooling with it. It’s supposed to be like that.” he crossed his arms over his chest in the typical Vegeta fashion.
“Well at least your robe covers your ass Vegeta!” she cried back, tugging at the fabric again.
“Perhaps I should get you a circus tent then!”
“You asshole! Why I should just…”
“Shut up and lets go already!” her supposed mate roared, grabbing her hand and tugging her out of the room.
“You still haven’t told me where we’re going.” Bulma whined, tugging insistently against Vegeta’s iron grip.
“We are going to the Imtar hot springs.” he growled back. Soon other people began to join them in their journey down the twisting halls of Emperor Boorin’s palace. Bulma noticed that they too, were all wearing silk robes; black, knee length for the men, white, mid thigh length for the women.
“Why do all the girls wear white?” she asked.
“I don’t quite know.” Vegeta responded. “Something about different sexes and all that garbage. Yadda yadda yadda… the usual.” He rolled his eyes, and Bulma sighed. Damn Vegeta, he was always such a jerk.
Bulma almost tripped over her own feet, as Vegeta pulled her against himself and offered her his arm. They were supposed to be mates, after all, and it wouldn’t exactly look too good if he were to drag her the whole way to the Hot Springs.
Bulma took Vegeta’s arm, grateful that he was no longer pulling her, and fell into step beside him. Soon they reached a door, and stepped through in to a large tiled room that looked much like an indoor pool to Bulma. In the center of the room, there was one large steaming tub of water; the hot spring. In it, were both males and females, all of them completely naked.
Bulma gasped as Vegeta dislodged his arm from her own, and untied the already loose belt about his waist, and allowed his robe to flutter gracefully to the floor, where a servant scurried to pick it up and hang it on the wall. The human woman flushed scarlet and turned quickly away, in order to avoid the sight of his nakedness, but Vegeta seemed to be in a slightly playful mood.
“I’ll be waiting for you.” he chuckled quietly into her ear from behind, reaching one hand around her waist to untie the sash of her robe.
“I can do that myself, Vegeta!” she hissed, slapping his hands away. He only laughed softly, but moved away from her and started towards the pool of water, and Bulma couldn’t help but to take a peek at his firm, muscled behind as he strutted away, tail lashing lazily behind him. Halfway there though, he turned around and faced her, causing her face to turn an even deeper shade of crimson.
“Don’t be long, sweetie.” he smirked maliciously at her as he spoke the words in Japanese, his voice a sickly sweet tone. She only glared as he turned and continued to the spring.
“What’s wrong with your mate, Vegeta?” Emperor Boorin asked, noting that Bulma had not discarded of her robe yet.
“Humans, they have a peculiar obsession with clothing.” he murmured, shrugging his shoulders and allowing himself to sink deeper into the water as he turned and waited for his ‘mate.’
Reluctantly, Bulma untied the silk sash and shrugged out of her robe. She handed it to a nearby servant and watched as it was hung beside Vegeta’s. Taking tiny, feminine steps, she made her way towards a demonically smirking Vegeta. He rose to aid her down the tiny, submerged steps, and she was thankful that the water was deep enough to hide him. She took her seat next to Vegeta, who pulled her close, and kept his arm lightly around her waist, his hand resting lightly on her thigh. His tail, she noticed with a start, had wound it’s way around her other thigh. Every so often, the tip flickered lightly, disturbingly close to her womanhood.
Uncertainly, Bulma shrank into Vegeta’s side as a large, rotund Imtorite plopped down beside her. He had not hidden his admiration of her body, even as she sat in the arms of her supposed mate, one of the strongest men in the Universe. She felt a hand brush her plush bottom and her eyes widened as it squeezed her flesh. She tensed and uttered a tiny sound of protest, knowing that the hand did not belong to Vegeta. It startled her that it actually made a difference, but she supposed that she would not mind as much if the Saiyan no Ouji were to touch her, considering the odd way she had been feeling around him lately.
Vegeta seemed to notice the sudden tension in her small body, for he picked her up lightly and set her bottom down in between his spread thighs, her back to his chest. He pulled her against him, a sign that she should settle down a little, and try to act as natural as possible. The Imtorite scowled as she sighed, seemingly with pleasure, and snuggled into Vegeta. It was, however, rather hard to ignore the feeling of his manhood against her.
She tried to keep in a gasp as she realized how incredibly huge he was. Even flaccid, he was easily several inches longer than Yamcha had been, and much thicker too. Blushing lightly, she couldn’t help but to wonder how large he would be when erect, and she felt herself begin to heat up. Noticing this, Vegeta shifted so that he was pressed even tighter against her.
“Do I meet with your approval?” he chuckled lightly into her ear. She nodded helplessly as his hands began to wander over her body, mostly her upper half. Although they did run over her legs, and bottom, he never touched the flesh between her thighs, believing that this was not the place to do so.
“Vegeta, Iie!” she hissed as his hands teased her breasts, kneading and plucking at her nipples.
“Look around woman.” he murmured, nipping at her shoulder lightly with sharp Saiyan teeth. “We wouldn’t want to offend our host, now would we?” he asked with mock innocence, dragging his tongue across her neck.
Bulma looked around then, for the first time since she had stepped into the hot spring, and noticed what he was talking about. All around them were couples, even threesomes, in some cases, touching and fondling each other. It was like some gigantic orgy! Bulma shuddered in disgust, remembering what Vegeta had said about sex on this planet.
“I think my mate and I will take our leave now.” Vegeta addressed the Emperor, who nodded. “The heat seems to be getting to her, if you will notice her flushed face.” he chuckled, standing up and bringing Bulma with him. They got out of the hot spring and walked towards the door, where they collected their robes and put them on. Vegeta put his hand lightly on the small of Bulma’s back as they were leaving, and there was a round of good-natured laughter from the heated pools as it slid lower to cup one plush nether cheek.
“Vegeta, we’re out of their seeing distance now. You can take your hand off of my ass.” Bulma hissed through clenched teeth. Vegeta chuckled lightly, and gave her a little squeeze before letting her go. Bulma growled and muttered a few choice words under her breath before stalking off down the twisting halls. However, once she realized that she did not know her way back to their chambers, she was forced to slow down and walk along at Vegeta’s leisurely pace.
“Smile, would you? I don’t want people thinking I took a prude as a mate.” the Saiyan teased.
“Yeah, and I really want everybody thinking I sleep with a mass murderer.” Bulma shot back.
“Is that really how you see me?” Vegeta inquired lightly, stopping in the middle of the hall.
“Well…I…I…” The Human woman stuttered over her words, detecting a slight hint of hurt in her companion’s voice.
Vegeta gave a dismissive shrug of his shoulders and began walking down the hall again. “If that’s what you see me as, then that’s what I’ll be.”
The rest of the way back to the room was spent in silence, and once there, Vegeta headed immediately for the shower, leaving Bulma to change. It wasn’t very late at all, but Vegeta had informed her earlier in the day that they would be leaving for the planet Toog early in the morning. As she slipped on her nightie, Bulma wondered why Vegeta had seemed so tense as he told her. Perhaps he had bad history with the people of Toog.
“We’ll be leaving for a nearby planet early tomorrow morning.” Vegeta stated, and Bulma couldn’t help but to notice that he seemed a little edgy.
“What planet is that?” she inquired, hoping to get a little more information out of him.
“Toog.” He said simply, but the human female detected that familiar note of irritation in his voice. Before she could ask anything else, he had left the room, tail lashing agitatedly behind him.
Vegeta slipped quietly out of the bathroom, to see Bulma putting something into one of the dresser drawers. She had not noticed him yet. However, he noticed her. He noticed her all to well while she was wearing that scrap of material. The way it clung to her shapely body made him sweat with desire, and though he had boasted of his supreme control the previous night, he found himself beginning to harden. He really didn’t want to want her this badly, but he couldn’t deny that she made him warm just by looking in his direction. She was truly an enigma, this human female. He had had plenty of women in his lifetime; after all, he was a prince, and not a bad looking one at that. Many of the women had been far more beautiful than the weak Onna, but never before had he found a female to be so desirable…What was it about her? Unable to resist the temptation any longer, he snuck up behind her and grabbed her around the middle, pulling her soft body against his own.
“Ve…Vegeta? What the hell are you doing?” Bulma murmured, uncertainty flooding her as she felt his hardened member pressing into the small of her back.
“Shhh.” was all the Saiyan no Ouji gave in reply, as his hands started to roam. One traveled up towards her breast, while the other moved down, worming its way under her silk night dress. He pushed aside the thin strip of fabric that was her underwear, and slipped his hand in to cup her womanhood. Bulma let out a surprised little groan as she felt two fingers slip inside of her, the thumb finding her nub, and gently rubbing it. She felt as if her legs were about to give out on her, and if not for the strong arm still about her waist, she would have crumpled to the floor.
“Vegeta…” Bulma whimpered, trying to push away from him. “I…We…We shouldn’t do this Vegeta.”
“Just tell me truthfully that you want me to stop,” he nibbled on her ear, “and I will.”
“I…Ohhh…” Bulma moaned quietly, trying desperately to sum up the courage to make him stop. It felt so good to be in his arms, so oddly right. Then though, she remembered the previous night, and how Vegeta had treated her, how he had humiliated her. With a determined new strength, she steadied her legs and pushed against his arms, doing her best to ignore the still probing fingers. “Vegeta, stop. I mean it. We can’t do this.”
“And why not?” Vegeta purred, his digits coming to a halt in their ministrations.
“I don’t want to do this.” she sighed. “You’re just teasing me Vegeta. I don’t want to be used like this.” She looked down at the floor, ashamed with herself for allowing this to go on for so long.
“Is that what you think?” Vegeta snarled in her hear. Bulma nodded, a tiny sob escaping her mouth. “Fine. If that’s what you think, then that’s how I’ll be.” he growled and pushing his fingers deep inside her once more, almost violently, finding a secret pleasure spot. He pushed hard, and Bulma’s body wracked with pleasure at the sudden orgasm.
Vegeta pulled his hand out from between the woman’s legs and stalked off out of the room, with out so much as a word, or a glance at Bulma’s crying figure, slumped on the floor. He didn’t come back that night, and Bulma didn’t see him until she boarded the ship the next morning, still looking angry.
Was it so wrong what I did? She wondered, glancing every now and then at the Prince as he readied the Imtorite ship for takeoff. He just wanted a night of pleasure…didn’t he? After the way he toyed with me the other night, there’s no way he could actually want me for more than sex. But why is he so mad? Am I wrong? Oh Kami Vegeta! What do you want with me?
The journey to Toog was quick, lasting only a few days. It seemed though, that Vegeta got moodier every second. Bulma wondered what he was so mad about. He had already made it quite clear that he was having second thoughts about going to Toog, but Vegeta was never one to back out of something once he said he was going to do it.
The day of landing finally approached, and Bulma realized that the only time Vegeta had spoken to her during the entire trip was when he told her to flip her head over, so that she could change the setting on the little translator chip. He hadn’t even glanced at her, and Bulma’s suspicions that Vegeta had only been using her grew. It wasn’t fair.
The mechanical hiss of the opening door startled Bulma, and she jumped quickly out of her seat, smoothing the Imtorite dress over her hips as she toed towards the door. Vegeta was already there, looking wonderful in the casual Imtorite clothing he wore. But then again, Vegeta always looked wonderful. Bulma sighed quietly…Why does he have to be such a heartless bastard?
“Is there anything about the Toogs that I need to know?” she asked quietly, earning her first actual look from Vegeta since ‘that night.’
“First off,” he stated, gruffly, “never refer to them as ‘Toogs.’ The correct term would be ‘Servants of Toog.’ They are a peaceful, religious people and we should have no trouble getting what we need. I hope to be off of this planet as soon as possible, so don’t get too attached to anything.”
“Why do you want to be away from here so fast?” Bulma probed. If this planet and its people were so nice, what is it that Vegeta couldn’t stand about being here?
“That’s none of your business.” Vegeta snapped, his voice harsh. He turned his head away from her, putting on a façade of indifference. Whatever bothered him about this place, he obviously didn’t want the natives to know.
“Greetings, Servant of Imtor! What do we of Toog owe this visit to?” a male voice called, from outside.
“I disappoint you Servant of Toog.” Vegeta called stepping out into the sunlight. Even from inside of the ship, Bulma heard a round of surprised gasps, and speculating murmurs. Perhaps Vegeta was not welcome here. “It is I, Vegeta no Ouji, Rogue Servant of Lost Vegetasei.” he turned and motioned for Bulma to come out as well. “This is Bulma, servant of Chikyuu.” There were more murmurs, as she stood shyly beside the Saiyan, but she could not quite make them out.
“Vegeta sama! Well, this is a surprise indeed!” a man spoke up from the crowd. Like his peers, he was a soft green in color, with coarse looking spikes of lemon yellow hair. He was a fat little man, and looked to be rather old, but seemed fairly friendly.
“I assure you, Rama, that we have not come for a social visit.” Vegeta spoke coldly, his gaze boring into the beady little red eyes of the old man. “We have need for technical assistance in order to fix our ship. This one,” he placed his hand lightly on the doorframe, “is borrowed.”
“Ahhh, Vegeta,” old Rama smiled, despite Vegeta’s anger. “You seem to forget that it was not I who wronged you.”
“She is your blood Rama, your raised daughter.” Vegeta snapped, much to Bulma’s confusion. Who were they talking about? Is this woman the reason that Vegeta had not wanted to come here?
“Touché, Vegeta sama. Ten long years has not dulled your mind.”
“My mind is sharper than ever, old man.” the Saiyan no Ouji growled. “But I have no time for your foolish games.”
Rama chuckled, his large belly vibrating with his mirth. “Yes Vegeta sama, impatient as ever. However, you must come and see Toorie. She always liked you.” he sighed. “We had hopes that you would be the one to father Yelta’s children.”
At this statement, Bulma watched Vegeta’s face darken and twist, though she was not sure whether the reason was of anger or pain. Maybe this Yelta was Vegeta’s old girlfriend, or perhaps fiancee… That would certainly explain why he had been so upset about having to come here. But if that was true, then why weren’t they together now? It was a mystery indeed.
“I have no wish to visit your home Rama, Servant of Toog. Good-day to you.” Vegeta snarled, clenching his fists. “My companion and I will be moving on towards the Capitol right away, and I do not relish in wasting my time.” He turned and yanked Bulma back inside the ship, then set the ship’s controls to take them to the Capitol, wherever that was.
“Ve…Vegeta?” Bulma murmured, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Are you all right? You…you seem very upset.”
“Leave me be, Woman. This is not of your concern.” he snapped, shrugging her hand away.
“Oh…okay. Well, if you need to talk about it, I’ll be here.”
“You’ll need to learn a few things about Toog society before we reach the Capitol.” Vegeta turned, changing the subject. He motioned for Bulma to sit down, while he paced the floor in front of her chair, the tip of his tail twitching in agitation. “You probably noticed all that ‘servant of Toog’ jargon back there.” he started. “The people of Toog think of the planets as Gods. Each Planet has been trusted for eternity with the safety and protection of a certain people. In return, the people vow to serve their particular God, which is the planet they happen to be born on.” He paused, looking to see if Bulma had any questions.
“So they believe that the actual planet is a God, who has chosen to house them?” she asked, bewildered at the idea.
“Hai. They are Servants of Toog. To them, you are a Servant of Chikyuu. I am called Rogue Servant because I do not live on my birth planet, which is called Lost Vegetasei because it is no more.” Bulma nodded, understanding. “Capitol is where the Graf lives. He is basically the King of the planet, and is known as Graf or Solta. Graf means King, Solta means ‘Communicator.’ It is believed in legend that the Graf has the power to commute with the God he was born on. When he uses this power, he is called Solta. If I think of anything else you will need to know, I will tell you. For now though, this is enough.”
“Vegeta?” Bulma questioned. “Can I ask you about Rama and his daughter? Is she the reason you didn’t want to come here?”
“I already told you that is none of your business.” Vegeta hissed. “It would be in your best interest if you did not venture into territory where you are unwelcome.”
“We’re approaching Capitol.” Vegeta murmured. “We should arrive in about ten minutes. Go make yourself presentable.”
Bulma glared at her Saiyan companion, yet did as he told her; she really did look awful in her ratty Capsule Corp. shirt and faded work jeans. Vegeta took no notice of her icy glance though, as he was busy monitoring the ship’s controls. He was surprised, however, that she did not yell or screech at him for his comment. Perhaps, he mused, he had overstepped his boundaries while on Imtor, and had frightened her off. He would have to be more careful to monitor that in the future.
Human women confused the Saiyan no Ouji, especially rich, smart, gorgeous Human women with manes of long, silky blue hair. The whole Chikyuu mating system confused him. As a Saiyan, he was completely used to following his instincts, which he had done, yet Bulma refused his advances, even as it was plain she wanted him. She had said that he was ‘using’ her, and nothing more. He would have taken her that night and proved her wrong, but rape did not particularly appeal to him. Vegeta’s honor system would not have permitted him to use her, even if he had wanted to. Saiyan people did not toy around like that. It was not as if they stayed virgins until they mated, it was just that the idea of casual sex was not a reality in their culture. It was a thing to be ashamed of.
As the Imtorite craft touched down just outside of Capitol, Bulma noticed that a huge crowd had formed. There were chorused greetings to Vegeta as the door opened with the familiar ‘whoosh’ and the two stepped outside into the sunlight.
“Ahhh!!! Vegeta, my boy!” a voice called out from the crowd. Vegeta actually smiled to see this old man. “Frala favors us today, does she not?”
“She does, Bramph.” He nodded courteously to the important looking Servant of Toog, who was currently adjusting his robes. “Frala is the sun.” Vegeta murmured, offhand, to Bulma, as she moved to stand beside him.
“Oh…Who is this? What a beautiful creature you travel with Vegeta sama. Surely she cannot be only a friend?”
“She is a friend and only that.” the Saiyan responded, and Bulma noted that he sounded almost wistful. “A Servant of Chikyuu.”
“Ahhh…” Bramph nodded his head in understanding, his wild hair flopping about. “Come now. Solta has caught wind of your visit, and you must see him before you leave.”
“He is in contact with Toog?” Vegeta inquired, stepping down the ramp a little.
“Yes, shortly after you landed on Toog, he felt the God calling him. We will go now though, and discuss things later.” A path cleared in the crowd, and Vegeta led Bulma down the ship’s ramp, where they joined Bramph. All three beings, each of a different species, started off towards the very center of Capitol, the place where Solta lived.
Along the way, Bramph pointed out several points of interest to Bulma, sharing little tidbits of information about the history of Toog in the process. He was a very lively creature, for one so old. Bulma did not know that they had arrived at the center of Capitol though, until she was told. The Solta’s housing seemed fairly modest for one who ruled an entire civilization of people. It was about three stories high, made of hard clay, like the houses in the surrounding area, but painted a deep shade of violet. There were no guards, only a few attendants in uniforms of red fabric. They carried curved swords in hilts hanging from belts, but Bulma suspected that they were more for decoration than anything.
“Toog is said to be the God of Peace. There is no war here, and there can only be one Graf, well, Solta as he is right now.” Vegeta murmured, seeing Bulma’s slightly puzzled look. “Things are very different from that of your Chikyuu civilization. Not everyone wants to be the ruler.” She nodded, though it was hard for her to imagine a people so peaceful that everyone could agree on one ruler for the whole planet.
The interior of the Solta’s home was similar to the outside, but the walls were painted a soft lavender. The floors were the same hard clay that the walls were made of, but they were left bare other than a few well-placed throw rugs. There was very little furniture inside the house, and little decoration.
“The Solta is in contact with Toog at the moment.” Bramph whispered, leading them through a doorway what appeared to be a sitting room. “We must not disturb him.” Vegeta nodded, and shuffled over to a comfy looking chair, where he plopped down. He looked tired. “You two must be fatigued after your journey. Make yourselves comfortable and I will return shortly with refreshments.”
As Bramph pattered out of the room, Bulma chose a cushy green chair next to Vegeta’s. “So, how long do you think we’ll be on this planet?” she asked, settling in to the cushions.
“I don’t know. It depends on how long the Solta is in contact. It could go on for as little as a few minutes, but he has been known to open the channels for up to three weeks at a time.”
“THREE WEEKS?!?!” Bulma cried, jumping out of her chair. “We can’t stay here for three weeks!”
“Shhh.” Vegeta hissed. “You’ll disturb his meditation, baka. Show your host some respect for his hospitality.”
“Gomen…” Bulma muttered, sitting back down.
Bramph returned soon, carrying a tray of little pastries in one hand and a tray of drinks in the other. Just as the three were settling down though, a little old woman came bustling in, causing quite a stir.
“Where is he?” she called. “I heard that the Rouge Servant was here! Oh there you are Vegeta sama!” she cried, running over to hug Vegeta. “I had heard you landed on the planet and I just had to see it for myself! I didn’t expect to ever see you again after what happened.” she smiled up at Vegeta, who glared down coldly. The little woman seemed to realize her blunder though, for she quickly changed the subject. “Oh but Vegeta, you’ve grown so handsome in these ten years! You’ve grown up into a proper man, and your eyes have a look of wisdom in them. You’ve learned and seen much, ne? You seem stronger as well. You’ve finally filled out that body of yours. Yes, you have improved.”
“It is good to see you as well, Veahla.” he forced a smile, but Bulma could tell he was not happy to see the woman.
“Oh Vegeta!” she chuckled. “You always knew just what to say to a woman.”
“Yeah right.” Bulma muttered, and Veahla spun around to face her.
“Why child, I did not see you standing there!” she shuffled over to inspect Bulma a little closer. “Vegeta! Why did you not mention you had such a pretty mate?”
“Because she is not my mate, Veahla.”
“Why not? Oh never mind, there must be a reason you have not attempted to woo such a creature.” she shrugged.
“And how do you know he hasn’t?” Bulma asked, though she didn’t really know why.
“Because, child. When Vegeta decides to take a female, no woman can resist his seduction,” she stated.
“Great Grandmother? Where have you gone off too?” a young Servant of Toog came trotting into the room. He looked to be about nine or so. “There you are!”
“Ahhh…” Veahla seemed to grow uncomfortable in his presence. It was then that Bulma noticed Vegeta’s icy glare was directed at the child. “Huyv, you should not go barging into places uninvited.” she tried to scoot him out of the room.
“Is that Yelta’s boy?” Vegeta asked, out of nowhere.
“How do you know my mama?” Huyv turned to face the scowling prince. “She’s at work right now, but maybe she would like to see you.”
“That may be so, brat. But I don’t want to see your mama.” he growled, and then turned to face the women. “I’m going to take a walk.” he stalked out of the room, leaving a confused Bulma alone with the two Servants of Toog.
“Oh dear…” Veahla muttered, wringing her hands. “It seems we have upset him terribly.”
“Would somebody please tell me what is going on here?” Bulma sighed. “Who are you, who is the boy, who is Yelta, and why in Kami’s name is Vegeta so damn angry?!?!” she cried.
“You mean Vegeta has not told you?” Veahla’s eyes widened in shock.
“Vegeta never tells me anything about himself.” The human woman grumbled back. “All I know is that his planet was destroyed many years ago, and he was raised by Frieza. Then he came to Chikyuu. I know what happened after I met him, but between the whole ‘destruction of his planet’ thing and the time he first came to Chikyuu, I’m lost.”
“Well…I don’t think I should tell you something so personal, when he has purposely neglected to tell you himself…” Veahla seemed nervous, but Bulma could see that she really wanted to share the gossip.
“I’m not asking for his life story. I just want to know what’s going on.” she put her hands on her hips and gave Veahla a prize-winning glare.
“Oh my!” The old woman giggled. “You are so much like Vegeta it is amazing to see that he has not taken you for his mate!” Bulma waited, rolling her eyes, as Veahla calmed down a bit. “Well, Vegeta will probably skin me for this, if he finds out, but I will tell you that Yelta is my granddaughter. As you already know, Huyv is Yelta’s son, nine years old. What you do not know, and what is most important in this little scuffle, is that Vegeta and Yelta were engaged at a point, but we have not seen him in almost ten years, before today of course.” Veahla smiled. “The rest, I will leave for you to figure out, for it is not my place to go into details.” With that, she scurried out of the room, ushering little Huyv out with her.
Bulma sat for a moment, contemplating this small bit of information, before stumbling upon a possibility that she did not want to think about. “Oh my Kami…” she whispered to herself, covering her mouth with a tiny hand. “Could Huyv be…could he be Vegeta’s son?”
Bulma sat for a moment, contemplating this small bit of information, before stumbling upon a possibility that she did not want to think about. “Oh my Kami…” she whispered to herself, covering her mouth with a tiny hand. “Could Huyv be…could he be Vegeta’s son?”
It was hard for Bulma to put on a smile until Yelta left, knowing that the man she had somehow fallen for could already have a son, and may still be in love with the mother. It felt almost as if her heart was breaking apart, but all the while she kept up a strong façade, and only after Yelta and Huyv left her alone with Bramph, did her resolve break.
“Is there something wrong, Miss Bulma?” The old Servant of Toog asked.
“I…” she stuttered back, “I have to go find Vegeta. I need to talk to him.” She made a move to get up, but Bramph’s hand was on her arm, stopping her.
“It would not be wise to go after him at this moment.” He said, guiding her back to her chair. “Vegeta is distressed at this moment, and it would be best if maybe you would bring up this issue with him at a more…tactful time. Perhaps after dinner he will have calmed down enough to discuss this.”
“But if I don’t talk to him right away, he’ll just bottle up these destructive emotions and I’ll never get them out of him!” she cried back.
“Vegeta’s emotions are destructive, child, and at the moment, he is probably focusing all of his energy into not destroying our homes and citizens.” he sent Bulma a tolerant smile. “If you try to talk to him before he is ready, you will only be hurt.”
“Vegeta has never hit me before, I don’t see why he would now.”
“But my child, who said I was talking about physical pain. While on this planet, out of respect for the Solta and Toog, Vegeta would not dare to give in to his violent nature. He will, more than likely, shut you out of his life for a while, and that would upset you, would it not?”
“I…I suppose you’re right.” Bulma sniffled back tears. “But what do I do till I can talk to him?”
“Come,” Bramph smiled and extended his hand. “I will show you around some more.”
The two spent the afternoon taking in all the sights of Capitol, Bramph explaining the significance of the way each house was built, each flowerbed was placed. It seemed that, to go with their particular religion, the Servants of Toog had a sort of Feng Shui. * They built and furnished their homes according to favorable directions and birth dates in order to enhance their experience with the god Toog. It wasn’t quite the same as Chikyuu’s Feng Shui, but it was fairly similar, and soon Bulma began to pick out Toog patterns and compare them to Chikyuu ones.
Even as she marveled at the similarities and differences between Toog society and her own, she could not help but to think of Vegeta, and the looming possibility that he could have a son and an unrequited love. The thought of Vegeta with another woman made her dizzy, and she nearly lost her lunch. Kami…why do I always pick the ones with other love interests?
An hour before dinner, Bramph and Bulma headed back to the center of Capitol so they could clean up and prepare for the evening meal. Because the Solta was still in contact, dinner was not a huge affair. It was just a simple meal, with light conversation, much, of which Bulma didn’t take notice of, for she was too busy watching Vegeta, and trying to see if he was still upset.
“Do you expect Solta to come out of Contact any time soon?” Vegeta questioned, after he took a sip of the hot liquid drink served with dinner, called oola.
“I estimate a day or two more, at most.” Bramph responded. “His meditation is not so deep as it has been, and I do not think there is much that Toog wishes to say.” Vegeta nodded, his curiosity obviously sated, and helped himself to a third chunk of grilled meat from the large platter in the center of the table. It seemed the cook had prepared well for his Saiyan appetite.
Dinner went by rather quickly, without mention of any anything unpleasant, and Vegeta soon retired to his room. Bulma followed suit, but before going to her own chambers, she rapped quickly on Vegeta’s door, pattering in quietly as he opened it to admit her.
Nervously, she sat on the bed and began to fiddle with her dress as Vegeta looked on, his patience failing quickly. “Vegeta…Are you okay?”
“Why shouldn’t I be?” his gruff voice responded sharply.
“Well…after what happened today, with Veahla mentioning Yelta and…and the boy…” she trailed off, looking to the floor. “Do you want to talk about it at all?”
“No.” Came the cold response.
“Can I at least ask you a question then?” Bulma pleaded.
“Ask away.” Vegeta laughed coldly. “I just might not answer.”
Bulma scowled and furrowed her eyebrows, in a Vegeta-like manner, ready to yell. Realizing though, that she was walking on thin ice with this subject, she calmed herself. “I want to know Vegeta, if Huyv is your son.”
Vegeta seemed a bit taken aback by her bold inquisition, and he turned away, crossing his arms on his chest. Why? He wondered to himself. Why does she want to know? What does it matter to her if I have a son or not? She has already refused my mating offer…is it possible that she didn’t understand? Perhaps she has finally decided to follow her instincts…but do I still want her? After the pain she caused me, shouldn’t I be worried she’ll do it again? Is it really safe to become attached to this woman? I was caught up in passion on Imtor…but if that is only it, then why do I feel so strange around this female?
Bulma watched quietly as Vegeta’s mind warred with itself, obviously trying to decide what to tell her. Finally though, he turned and spoke, his voice cold and emotionless. “No woman, Huyv is no son of mine…and that is precisely the problem.”