What's one day?

By: Dark Angel and Tsukiakari

Chapter One: Preparations

Azure eyes lay fixed upon a bulky band clinging to her finger.
Her face frowning irritably as she fumbled with its bulkiness. The shear weight of it was not meant for her delicate finger, but none the less, it held her importance in life. Marking her as one of the science division slaves. Slave. It was sad that a life had to be wasted in such a way.
Frequently she would transfer the band to a neighboring finger as to not tire the last any longer. Carefully though, if she were to loose it, it would mean certain death.
It was strange to think why a race such as the saiyajins gave their lowest class citizens, slaves, a heavy ring to mark them as such.
Saiyajins may have been blood thirsty bastards that highly valued power and pride, but they also valued beauty. It would be much more comely for them to give their slaves a marker that signified more beauty than a weighty ring.
She remembered when she saw an old man be halted for not having his ring. He had pleaded for his life and offered many things in return. The soldier that stopped him had laughed and blew the poor man away. Whenever a female lost her ring … they lived a bit long, but none of them wanted to be alive for those last moments. Usually male saiyajins looked out for missing rings so they could find an excuse for a lay. Just something to ease their tension on. Ever since being given the ring, she had been sure to never lose it.
If she did … she didn’t even want to think about it.
She watched from her perch on top of a tall supply box.
Vegitasei’s second sun rising up in the horizon. The bright glow added to the burnt orange color of the planet resulting in crimson bursts of color to paint the early morning sky. Vegitasei woke like a battle hardened warrior, as though she was bleeding from mortal wounds caused by heaven’s arrows. Did Vegitasei even have a heaven?
She could see a path of dust rising in the distance.  Kingdom transports were already making the journey through the desert, to the temple.
The entire population was coming to the Saiya Temple today. A million saiyajins, more or less, would have to pass hygienic protocol before being allowed into the temple perimeter. Ou Vegita had been very specific to them on how important it was to keep the temple clean, and free of impurities. Therefore, Bardock had issued a team of medical slaves to accompany them and perform an examination on each person before being allowed into the perimeter. She had been examined as well, just like every member of Bardock’s team.
They had roused the slave quarters two hours before dawn.
Bardock came to her earlier that morning and told her that she needed to be ready to go in half and hour. He always did things like that for her.
* * * flashback * * *
“Bardock, why are we leaving so early?” The sleep ridden slave asked her superior. Her stunning cerulean eyes still clouded over from the dream world.
“The temple has to be ready before sunset.” He replied in a rough voice. She could tell he was in a serious mood.
“Grrrr, get up woman! I don’t need a lazy tech slave bumbling around, messing this important operation up!” Bardock was obviously a little riled up. The fair woman rose and pulled on a pair of baggy work pants followed by a uniform shirt that she left untucked. Following obediently, she knew that her temper needed to be in check today.
* * * end flashback * * *
Still atop her high perch, the slave saw the other members of Bardock’s science and tech team walk by unaware of her. After living with saiyajins for so long, she knew how to act around them. She listened carefully to their conversation, only able to pick up a bit of it.
“How come we are having to do common slave work? The king should know by now that Bardock’s teams are the best and we should only be reserved for special operations.” A gruff saiyajin asked his companion.
“This is a special operation! The kingship ceremony is the most important ceremony of the century! You know that baka…” The other member replied. He knew what was going on better than anyone. He was the oldest member of Bardock’s team and his best friend, Toma.
The slave woman continued to stare at the approaching transports. She wondered what exactly the kingship ceremony included. Oh well, it wasn’t her problem. She was still curious though. Her gaze stole away to her ring once again.
Bardock walked through the mass of his teams. So far he had completed the check on each med team member and tech team member. He still had one more team to go. Flipping the next page on his clip-board he saw it was the science division slaves. In order of rank, he read the first name.
“Bulma Briefs?” Bardock questioned, checking off the attendance of each slave. Hearing no response, he looked around. He could have sworn she had come with them. The saiyajin scientist had made sure that their best science slave came along. She showed extreme talent in electronics and other technical fields. Without her, the saiyajin race would not be as far along as they were.
“Bulma Briefs!” He called out louder, trying to spot the blue haired woman. She was sitting on a fairly tall cargo box next to the temple
staring at something. How did she get up there anyway? He growled, sometimes she could be so spaced out.
“BULMA BRIEFS!” He yelled. Bardock saw the blue head snap up and stare at him. Her eyes were still slightly clouded over, but she
acknowledged him.
“Yes.” The slave replied quietly. He snorted at her in disappointment. If she wasn’t worth as much as she was, he would have put her
down a long time ago. The king had found her on a purge mission and given her to him for the science division. Ou Vegita had told him that she was of significant importance to them, and not to destroy her. Since that day the king had not allowed any harm to come to her. Oh well, he had other things to be thinking about. Bardock marked off her name and continued checking the present slaves.
Bulma jumped down gracefully and walked to the science team quickly. She dare not say a word, for the saiyajin guards would make commotion and that was the last thing she wanted right now. Getting on Bardock’s bad side wasn’t a good thing to do, especially today. She went back a long way with her superior. He had been the first saiyajin to be semi-nice to her. Bulma was very grateful he was her overlord, the other slaves weren’t as lucky. He had taken her under his supervision as a technical slave and eventually made her a member of the science division as well as his personal science team. Today was a very important day in the Saiyajin Kingdom. Only a few hours were left until Ouji Vegita came to redeem himself. That meant that Bardock was already in a tight mood because they only had a little bit of time to check over the status of the temple.
The blue haired beauty sighed, her ring was making her hand ache from not being high enough past her knuckle. She really wanted to fix it but Bardock’s team of guards were coming around to keep the slaves in order. If they saw her toying with her ring, they might get suspicious. They were probably already looking to see if any of the slaves didn’t have their rings.
The science division was responsible for repairing the temple walls and administering safety precautions. They couldn’t go inside. It just wasn’t possible. The other teams had their own responsibilities and such. She was jostled out of her thoughts by a guard’s wandering hand pinching her ass.
She turned her head to face a massive saiyajin looking down at her. Her gorgeous blue eyes turned fierce and warned him to leave. His black eyes slid down to her right hand. Seeing for himself that she wore her slave ring, he waved her off and walked away. Damn saiyajins! They really set her blood on fire. It couldn’t be healthy to have such a high testosterone level. Bulma managed to keep her
cool for the time being. Bardock was coming towards her.
“Come on. We have to get the supplies unloaded and I put you in charge of security and wall repair.” The saiyajin stated his orders as they walked towards the cargo boxes.
“Do you have any specifications on wall repair?” Bulma wondered. Bardock answered quickly.
“The only one needing repair is the east wall. Get it repaired within the hour and I’ll have more orders ready for you then.” She nodded and walked side by side with him until the reached the science team and … the guards? The boxes must have been really heavy if they required guards to lift them. She took in each guards face, she knew most of them, including the brute that had pinched her. He was smirking at her even now. Bulma rolled her eyes and listened to Bardock explain that she was in charge. After he left she stepped up.
“Okay. I need three guards to take boxes to each of the marked places on the east wall … ” Bulma was grateful for the plentiful assistance, but that also meant she would have to be around saiyajin males for a few hours.
Today was definitely going to be a long day.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The high ceiling held no interest for him even though he appeared to be staring at it. His dark face was in a state of calm. Even though
Vegita’s thoughts weren’t. The ouji laid stretched out like a large cat sunning itself on a ridiculously oversized bed. He was wearing his traditional training armor although his gold tipped boots lay in a pile on the floor near the door.
Vegita’s train of thought was interrupted by a soft knocking.
“Enter.” His voice was virtually void of care. A shaky servant stepped into the room.
“Sire, the king informs you that you have an hour to get prepared for the ceremony.” The skinny slave’s mouth trembled with fright.
Vegita hesitated before replying.
“Leave.” His voice no more emotional than before. The slave bent at the waist and backed out of the room so quickly he nearly tripped over his own feet.
“Hn.” Vegita rose into a sitting position and slid off the bed. He walked towards the door to gather his boots and slipped them on with ease.
Soon he would have to face the toughest feat of his life. As did every prince of the saiyajin race before him. He smirked. Of course, he
would out do them all. It was well known that he was the most powerful of all the saiyajins, excluding his father. Thinking that, his smirk fell. His stupid old man would learn soon enough that he was old enough to be a fitted king. Oh yes, in due time. The old bastard had the royal tutors explain the whole thing to him over the years. When the reining prince turned of age, he was required to prove his royalty by entering the Saiya Temple. Vegita’s eighteenth birthday had been only a few days ago and he had requested that he be allowed to go to the temple. His father accused him of being to rushed but ordered the preparations none the less.
The Saiya Temple was an ancient structure used for the kingship
ceremony, where the reigning prince proved his ability to become king. Only
saiyajins of royal blood, ripe at the age of eighteen were able to enter. The
temple had refused other princes because of asking for premature entrance. The
design tested the maturity and nobility by a sample of blood. Once the blood was
tested and the door opened, it remained so and anyone could enter until the door
was closed manually. If his bastard of a father had done it, so could he and he
would surpass him in the process. He smirked walking out the door and towards
the transport station.

* * * * *

Chapter Two: Interruptions

The lavishly decorated halls of the palace slowly faded into
the bare gray high ceiling of the transport station. He walked proudly down the
wide halls. Every now and then a slave would pop out of a room only to run back
in at the sight of him. Others would hit the floor in a cowardly bow. He laughed
inwardly. Stupid fools. They knew he was by far their superior and that he had
much more potential than his father.
Speak of the devil. There the bastard was. The young prince
walked up next to his father in a silent joust.
“Where have you been brat?” Ou Vegita harshly asked his heir
without turning his head. The ouji smirked.
“Preparing to surpass you, old man.” He replied as if he was
stating the weather. He barely noticed his father tense up. The king knew good
and well that his son held the potential to go above and beyond what he had. The
ou straighten his posture
“The royal transport will be here in a few moments. Quite
flashy actually, I don’t think you’ll be disappointed. It will take us to the
temple. Its best for us to make an entrance for our people.” Ou Vegita stated
and was about to leave when his son spoke up.
“Ridiculous. I will not be taken to my kingship ceremony in a
transport.” Vegita stubbornly opposed. His father whirled around.
“I will not tolerate your foolish retaliation, boy! We are
going and that is final.” His voice grew silently threatening.
“Father, we are saiyajins. We are very capable of using our own
power to fly verses using technology. It is disgraceful to use such false
power.” Vegita chided his father. The king was beginning to lose his control.
How dare his son stand there and not only question his antics but lecture him on
the power of his own race! Vegita was thrilled that his father was getting riled
up, but his fathers next statement really ticked him over the edge.
“If you ever plan to be king you will do well to promote the
modern technology we have in our grasp. However, foolish boy, let me remind you
that I am the still king of this empire and you are still under my rule. If you
chose not to obey me I will give you the beating of your life you insolent
wretch!” The king let his power level rise slightly in warning. Vegita lost it.
“How dare you threaten me you old bastard! I will not be
ordered around by the likes of you! You will soon see what power I possess and
then, then father, we will see who is king!” In a mess of insults and power
surges the young saiyajin took to the skies in blind rage. The crew standing by
to escort the king and prince were knocked to their feet from the after shock of
Vegita’s power surge.
The ouji gritted his teeth in frustration. His father was to
weak to be king. He was only eighteen and was close to his father’s power level.
The old man was losing it if he thought the saiyajin race needed technology to
survive. He shook his head and pressed on to make his grand entrance at the
temple. Today was his day!
The king stood unmoving from his stance. His foolish boy of a
son would learn one day that to be king, power was not the only thing necessary.
“Once he’s betrothed he should settle down … stupid brat!” He muttered to
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Bulma dodged yet another person that almost ran into her.
Really these people had eyes for a reason! She looked up in time to catch a
glance of a huge shadow before it came crashing down on her.
“Uggh!” She opened her eyes to see a massive mountain of black
hair blocking her view. She tried to get up but found that her arms were clamped
under a vast wall of chest muscles. Oh god! It was a saiyajin guard! Her eyes
spotted the furry tail dangling down her leg. She stiffened and prayed that he
would not notice she was a slave. Yeah right, her science division uniform was a
dead give away, not to mention her ring. She heard a groan and watched as a
pissed face came up to level with her own. He began to growl.
“Watch it girl! You should know better than to get in a
saiyajin’s way!” The guard scolded forcefully. He looked so familiar. She was
relieved that this guard wasn’t the same one that had pinched her before. He
still hadn’t made a move to get up, which was getting Bulma worried. He lifted
up a little bit and Bulma sucked in her air and slipped out from underneath him.
He hiked an eyebrow as she tried to scurry away. How had she been able to get
out from under him? Bulma was halted in her tracks by a firm grasp on her wrist.
“I do believe you are a slave, and there is a punishment for
pestering guards.” Bulma’s fear quickly reverted to courage. She looked up his
towering height and peered into his eyes.
“And I do believe that I have my ring, and I am in no way
violating any laws by accidentally bumping into you. If you’re such a strong
saiyajin, how come you are letting a small occurrence such as this get to you?
Now, I’ll be on my way.” Bulma said in a sassy voice. She turned up her nose and
walked away. The guard stood in astonishment. She had guts, he’d give her that.
If he had been anyone other than a new recruit to Bardock’s team, she would be
history. The only reason he was pestering her to begin with was because Bardock
had told him about her. She certainly was a bit saucy for a slave. He waved it
off, he had a lot of work to do.
Bulma was glad to be far from that guard. God, was he following
her or something? He always seemed to be around. Oh well, she had a lot to do.
The ou and ouji would be coming in less than half an hour. She walked to her
station where Bardock was suppose to give her new orders. She sighed and waited.
The young slave spotted him coming towards her with a few guards in tow.
“Okay. I need you to get these boxes ready to go into the
temple. I brought more assistance. Get it done quick, I have other things for
you to do.” Bardock huffed out his orders so quick, Bulma hardly got them all.
The saiyajin scientist walked off in a hurry. Bulma looked around at the
assistance Bardock had brought her. To top it all off her friend from earlier
was standing among them. She grimaced inwardly. Someone was seriously out to get
her. She looked in his direction only to see him smirk. Deliberately rolling her
eyes, she cleared her throat to get everyone’s attention.
“There is a total of ten of you, I need four to unload boxes on
this cart. Another five of you will unload that cart over there, and then I need
one off you to help me.” Bulma ordered loudly, using her voice to its potential.
The guards dispersed and started their duties, all but one of them. To her
excitement, it was her new saiyajin guard. He walked up and stood in front of
her, developing a smirk.
“I guess that means I get to help you.” His attitude matching
the smirk on his face. Bulma huffed and turned to walk to another area full of
already unloaded boxes. The guard stepped in behind her. She stopped at the
“I didn’t catch your name, soldier?” Bulma asked annoyingly. He
“Kakarot.” He spoke, Bulma nodded.
“Okay Kakarot, I need you to stack up theses boxes and line
them up according to what they contain.” The fair slave said calmly. The guard
nodded and began.
“Hey, I’ll be right back. Just keep going.” Bulma said casually
and waved her hand. The guard grunted in affirmation. The blue haired woman
walked over to the other guards to make sure they were doing everything
properly. She bumped into Bardock on the way, he merely stepped in sync with her
and walked alongside.
“Who is the new guard? I’ve never seen him before.” She
wondered informally. Bardock suddenly seemed to tense.
“Why? Is he being a bother?” Bardock was really too worried for
his own good. She wondered briefly if the saiyajin had ever relaxed in his life.
“No, quite the opposite really. He is helping me right now.”
Bardock nodded.
“He is my son.” Bulma almost stumbled. She gaped up at her
“What?! I didn’t know you had a son, Bardock!” She looked back
down, still amazed. Bardock smirked indefinitely.
“He is seventeen, I’ve had him for a while.” Bulma frowned at
his mocking of her. Wow, now she knew why he had looked so familiar.
“I didn’t know you had any secrets that I didn’t know about
Bardock. I guess you’re just full of surprises.” She said lightheartedly.
Bardock laughed.
“Get back to your duties girl.” He said in the same manner.
Bulma walked to the site of the other guards and monitored their progress before
getting them to haul the boxes to Kakarot’s position. Finally she had everything
set and ready for the ceremony. She sat on top of another box, much as she had
done earlier and watched the millions of people gathering for this important
ceremony. She watched the massive guards stroll by. She saw a black head bob
underneath her and saw it stop and look up. It was Kakarot. He gave her an
acknowledging smile and rose up into the air. The bulky guard settled next to
her on the box and looked out over the horizon.
“How did you get up here?” He asked quietly. She looked at him
strangely. Was he really a saiyajin? But then again he was Bardock’s son. Maybe
the Kakarot had inherited Bardock’s passiveness.
“I climbed.” The small woman replied. He nodded. He didn’t
figure she could have flown. This woman was obviously not saiyajin due to many
factors but then what was she? He ignored the thought and just sat, enjoying the
view. He sensed the woman tense and followed her gaze to see his father standing
a little ways away from their box, looking up at them. Bulma leaped off the tall
box and landed in a crouch in front of Bardock.
“You know, I always wondered how you get up there, but at least
now I know how you get down.” He said submissively. Bulma smiled at him and felt
Bardock’s gaze drift to another person standing next to her but then return.
“I saw the cargo. I’m impressed but I still have another duty
for you, Bulma.” He stated. Bulma could tell he was still pressed for patience
and merely nodded.
“There are other slaves assigned to decorate and all that, but
they don’t have any supervision. Your assignment is to watch over them.” The
orders were really to her and Kakarot. She didn’t mind. It was like having a
younger version of Bardock to hang out with. The two pupils nodded and began
their walk towards the front of the temple. That was where all the food and
decorations were. Bulma walked passed the food tables and towards the decorating
slaves. Kakarot walked soundlessly beside her. They stopped to see the marvelous
decorations that were being hung to and fro across the entire north wall. The
entrance was at the north wall and so was the food. There were hundreds of chefs
scurrying around the tables trying to make the food arrangements perfect for the
king and prince. The lithe salve continued to walk with her new friend’s
towering form beside her. He sure did look like Bardock, but he was much bigger.
Bulma shook her head and stopped in front of the slaves and crossed her arms.
Kakarot stood next to her.
“How long do you think it will take them to finish decorating?”
The saiyajin guard asked her.
“Not too long. They only have about ten minutes before the ou
and ouji arrive.” She said. Compared to him she was so small. Personally, she
had always thought she was taller than others of her kind. But as it was she
came about to his chest. Kakarot was the only saiyajin she had been this close
too on purpose, besides Bardock. The pair stood watching the slaves decorate for
a few minutes while picking up on the conversations of a few nearby citizens.
“I heard that Bardock has issued the royal guards to watch for
traitors.” The citizen’s voice was most annoying, she sounded as though she had
something stuck in her nose.
“I know. You’d think that there was actually going to be some
excitement.” The woman’s companion sounded no better. The two continued walking
and chatting. The fair woman watched the slaves finish and walk to their
master’s station. Her and Kakarot left to find Bardock. The older saiyajin was
ordering the guards and politicians to their specified places. She gasped as he
nudged her in between two guards.
“You have earned this place for the ceremony. You should be
honored.” Bardock was again speaking so fast Bulma had to strain to pick up
everything. The blue haired slave was hardly aware that her face had wrinkled
into an unsatisfied expression. Why should she care where she stood? It wasn’t
her ceremony. The two guards beside her were called forward to start patrol. She
stood next to the temple wall looking around. How could she be honored to stand
among the people that she despised most? Bulma had no respect for the saiyajins
to begin with. Why would she have any respect for the people that stole her away
from earth? Her gaze fell on the temple entrance. What was so special about that
thing anyway? Even when she pestered Bardock he wouldn’t tell her what was
inside. Supposedly only royalty and politicians knew what was in there. Bardock
was a member of the royal guards and he had to be trusted to ensure the security
of the royal family, hence he knew about it. The small woman let her attention
be stolen to her clunky ring once again.
The quiet was shattered by the harsh sound of trumpets. Every
pair of eyes settled on the royal transport that had just stopped. Ouji Vegita
was already standing on the red carpet, seemingly waiting his father to exit. Ou
Vegita stepped out and threw his hasty son a scornful glare. The two walked
along the red carpet, the ouji appeared to be walking ahead of the king. Hardly,
but it was noticeable. A whispering roar erupted in the crowd. Small people
turning to one another asking why the prince was trying to outclass his father
by walking in front of him.
COMMENCE THE CEREMONY! REMAIN QUIET!” The royal advisor boomed loudly, silencing
all the mindless chatter. Bulma gasped at the sudden shrieks of sound made by
the trumpets. Her fingers shook violently from being frightened. The goldish
band slipped from its place, flying in the air. Bulma had no time to think, she
leaped out from her place and caught the precious thing. The blue haired slave
had that nervous butterfly feeling in her stomach and her face was drained of
color. That was too close; way too close. Her hands were shaking involuntarily.
Vegita and his father had walked up the red carpet and were now
at the podium where the king was to make a speech to his people. The entire way
up the carpet he had to bite his tongue to not pound the boy form his earlier
retribution. What was worse was that his son was looking at him with a
triumphant smirk. The ouji was delighted in his fathers fury. He had to contain
himself from bursting into laughter. He watched as his stupid father approached
the podium. Of all the things he had to endure being the prince, he absolutely
hated his father’s boring speeches.
“As all of you know, today is Ouji Vegita’s kingship ceremony.
He will perform the most grueling and intense feat of all by entering the Saiya
Temple for a day…”Bulma zoned out on the speech, she really couldn’t care
less. She gazed at the troublesome ring again, thinking how pointless they were.
In reality the only purpose they held was to allow the saiyajin to take delight
in murdering slaves, or raping them. Her eyes narrowed to menacing slits and her
fingers twiddled the heavy band around and around her finger. She hadn’t been a
slave her whole life. No. She was once the proud daughter of Dr. Briefs. Her
expression softened at the memory. How wonderful it would have been to grow up
on earth. To live her life to the fullest and become president of Capsule
Corporations. She only wished, her mind was absent to the ceremony; fluttering
in wistful daydreams.
The old bastard’s speech was finally over, it had been a hard
task not to fall asleep. Maybe that should be the kingship ceremony, to try and
see if he could withstand his father’s mind-numbing voice for a day. He smirked.
Now he was walking solo up the ramp that led to the temple door. The doors were
side by side and they reached to a monstrous height of about fifteen feet. On
the side of the right door was a small outcrop. He walked to it. Nobody had told
him exactly what he was suppose to do up here, but it was pretty self
explanatory. The ledge was indeed small, only about a foot wide and sticking out
of the wall a foot as well. He stood in front of it and brought his hand to his
mouth, biting his finger. He draped his hand over the small dish shaped
protrusion and allowed a drop of blood to splash into the pure clear water. He
lifted his hand and the outcrop was drawn back in. The entire planet held its
peace for a long, dramatic, silent pause. Had he failed? Was he not old enough?
Slight fear rose up in his stomach. He was about to leave in shame when a sudden
light surrounded him. The atmosphere seemed to control his movement because his
hand lifted by itself and was placed on the door. The glow receded and he closed
his eyes in concentration. Within seconds the pair of doors slid to opposite
sides. The prince’s eyes opened and he smirked. He did it. As soon as the doors
opened the entire crowd gasped and started to whisper.
All awe was stopped by a loud crash followed by a blinding
light and searing heat. Bulma was jolted from her daydreams by the sudden
disturbance and screamed loudly. She watched in fear as her slave ring flew far
off. Her mouth gaped open as it silently landed in the misty entrance of the
temple. She looked around frantically making sure nobody saw the mishap.
Everyone seemed to be watching the prince and another person off to the right of
the doors. She hadn’t even known he had opened the doors. Thankfully he didn’t
see her ring. His attention was diverted away from her.
Vegita turned to face the fool that had tried to ruin his
ceremony. To his annoyance every guard came to his rescue. Didn’t the idiots
realize he was by far more powerful than they were?
“All guards leave at once. I will attend to this minor
problem.” Vegita was smirking uncontrollably. He welcomed this attack, it was an
excuse to have some fun before he went into the temple. The guards pleaded to
let them attend to the attacker but Vegita shot them a look of anger and they
apologized and scurried off. He turned his attention back to the attacker. It
was a male saiyajin. He had a white rag tied around his right bicep. A sign that
he was a traitor. Vegita’s smirk left his proud face and he resumed an angry
scowl. This was a disgrace for his own kind to be against him like this. All
guards had surrounded the deserter from a distance. He was having trouble
identifying the saiyajin, but he did look familiar.
The panicking slave was paler than usual. She was debating
whether or not to go and get her ring and risk being caught, or to just forget
about her ring and explain the whole thing to Bardock. Yeah right! There was no
chance in hell she would survive a minute on this god forsaken planet without
her ring. She almost growled at her thought. What were the chances she could
slip in unnoticed? Well, everyone was looking the other way, so that was a plus.
But there were guards everywhere, and there was bound to be at least one person
looking around. She scans the entire crowd, looking to make sure no one is
looking at the temple doors.
“What is your name traitor?” Ouji Vegita ordered forcefully,
booming loud over the crowd. The man’s head looked at Vegita and smirked.
“I’m disappointed Vegita, that you don’t even remember the name
of a member of your previous purging squad.” The man’s voice was mocking Vegita.
The ouji’s eyes widened as he recalled just who this saiyajin was.
“Parslo!” Parslo smirked at the prince’s recognition but then
his smirk fell and he raised his voice to tell everyone exactly why he had come
today. He pointed accusingly at Ouji Vegita.
“You killed my entire family in cold blood. They were innocent,
they had done nothing wrong. But you killed them all anyway, for no reason. All
of them, everyone died at your hands! You are a complete disgrace to the
Saiyajin Empire. You are not fit to be any king!” His words struck home and
Vegita let loose a bark of anger before sending his reply.
“Parslo! You are the disgrace! The purge on Kozak was
definitely an unexpected challenge, but we knew it was going to be our victory.
Still, you were convinced the Kozaks were going to defeat us. I vowed on the
battle field that if you left, your family would pay the consequences. But your
pansy ass still got scared and fled!” Everyone in the crowd hissed in disgust
that this saiyajin had run from battle, the most horrible offence!
Bulma watched as all gazes flicked back and forth from the
prince and the other saiyajin. Nobody was paying any attention to the temple.
She held her breath and dashed inside.
“Huh?” a saiyajin guard jerked his head towards the temple. He
thought he had seen something run into the temple. He narrowed his eyes
suspiciously. The bulky saiyajin walked over to the entrance and stood guard,
just incase.
Bulma ran into the temple and crouched, looking for her ring. A
sparkle caught her attention and she leapt over to grab the runaway ring.
Sliding the massive band on her finger, she stood. Gasping in awe at the
magnificent beauty of the interior. It was beautiful, not because of decorations
but because there was a mystical appearance to the whole thing. Actually there
were hardly any decorations. There was a peaceful mist hanging everywhere. There
was an open door to her left and a bed. Bed? Why was there a bed, when the
prince was only suppose to spend a day in here? What was she doing?! Bulma hit
herself on the forehead and turned to make her escape. The lithe salve froze in
her tracks. A huge guard was standing outside of the temple doors. Quickly she
darted away from the door and crouches behind the bed. How come he hadn’t seen
her? There was a lot of mist, so that could be why. When she had entered there
was a blinding light preventing her from seeing what resided inside. That was
obviously the reason. Now she had another problem. How was she going to get out
of there?
Vegita laughed at Parslo’s face. The ruined saiyajin was biting
back the shame he felt for running out on his mission.
“Since you were a part of my purging squad, I will do you the
favor of putting you down! Your blood will not taint the Saiyajin Empire for you
are the last of your family!” Vegita decided to end it with that. He raised a
single hand and let loose a wide beam of energy that plowed into Parslo. The
traitor’s scream echoed in the vast silence. And then he was gone. Vegita turned
away from the ashes of Parslo and went back to resume his destiny. He motioned
for the guards to begin loading the supplies.
Bulma peeked out from her hiding place. She was about to make
for a quick exit but to her complete horror, guards filed in each carrying a
load of boxes. She cursed at her bad luck. Panicking, she realized that there
was no hope in escaping, there was no way out. Perhaps, she could survive a day,
if she stayed hidden. Sure, it was possible. What’s one day?

* * * * *

Chapter Three: Fates Cruel Hand

The massive saiyajin guards stacked every box according to
their contents in the main hall of the temple. Bulma peeked out from her hiding
place, making sure she was still a secret. There were more guards leaving than
coming in, so that meant they were almost finished. Whew! She couldn’t wait to
get this day over with, and then she could somehow slip out while the ouji made
his big exit. Bulma bit her lip nervously. She hoped it would work.
Vegita watched as the last of the guards left the temple.
Finally, he got his moment! The prince turned to the crowd and smirked
gloriously, the entire crowd erupted in cheer. Yes, this was definitely his
moment. Before walking through the temple doors, he sent his father a snide
expression accompanied by a silent remark.
“I WILL surpass you, old man.” Vegita lipped, knowing that his
father understood from the angry glare he received. With that Vegita turned and
made his way towards destiny.
Ou Vegita watched his son stride proudly into the Saiya temple,
and laughed softy under his breath. He had never gone in the temple and the
fools never found out.
“Stupid brat, I hope he fails. Then I will still rule!” He said
triumphantly to himself. He smirked maliciously as the temple doors were shut
behind his foolish son.
Kakarot wandered through the herd of civilians that were
gushing out the exits. Where was that damn woman? He was supposed to get her and
take her back to the Science Compound to meet with Bardock. Oh well, he’d look
for her later. She had been standing right next to the temple doors, so maybe
she had gotten inside. No, she wouldn’t have been that foolish. Surely she
wouldn’t live if she were to be caught by the prince. Dismissing the blue haired
slave, Kakarot left the premises alone.
After the doors closed behind him, Vegita inspected the temple
interior. It wasn’t bad for a temporary home. It wasn’t nearly as lavish as his
room in the palace, but it would do for training purposes. In the process of
looking around he felt a slight prick of ki to his right.
“Could the bastard really have? No, he knows better than to
make a fool of me.” Even though Vegita verbally reassured himself, he knew that
there was definitely a woman somewhere in the temple with him. How could she
have gotten in there? Her ki was fluctuating in an unmistakable pattern; a
pattern he knew well. Her thoughts were causing her fear to show obviously in
her ki, which was pathetically low. Oh well, he might as well have a little fun.
He’d decide later on if he would kill her on the spot, but he’d definitely get a
kick out of jumping her. He loved to scare his victims.
“Time to start my training, if only there was something to kill
right about now.” Leaving it at that, Vegita sank into the shadows, grinning.
Bulma eyed the ouji wearily. Something about those last few words made her a bit
suspicious. After everything she had heard about the young prince, she knew that
he was a cold and cruel spoiled brat. Suddenly her eyes widened in realization.
Oh of course. How stupid! He was talking about her! The lithe beauty began to
panic. She couldn’t stay in here, she didn’t care if it was only for a day…she
wouldn’t survive! The king would have to forgive her…she was their best
weaponry and training facility designer after all. Yes, there was always that
option. Oh how stupid she was! Slapping her forehead, Bulma mentally cursed
herself for even thinking about staying in the temple. After criticizing
herself, the small woman poked her head out from behind the huge bed. Bulma
crawled on her hands and knees to hide behind the stacks of boxes, hoping that
the prince was not anywhere nearby. Holding her breath, the blue haired woman
sprinted to the massive doors. She slid her hand down the smooth stone looking
for a handle or anything similar. Nothing. Her panic began to set in. She
pounded her fists furiously against the cold stone door trying to get it to obey
her will to open. She hoped that someone on the outside would here her and open
the door somehow. The more than ancient rock was unwilling to agree to her will
and stood its ground.
Behind her, a keen eye watched her futile assault on the rock
hard door. Allowing a smirk to creep up on his shadowed face. He watched her
elfin body strike the unmoving stone with surprising force. She’s got spirit,
that’s for sure, maybe just a little longer. It was all to amusing. An exciting
sensation ran through the spying ouji’s body as he pictured her face when he
revealed himself and how long she would get to stay with him. Maybe now. The
shadows deepened his features until he was a blanket of darkness. Then he
vanished completely, ready to pounce on his prey.
With tired arms and a pounding heart, Bulma frantically
searched her surroundings, mentally pleading that he was nowhere to be found. To
her satisfaction, there was no one in sight. Exhausted, her limp form began a
slow decent, sliding towards the floor in defeat. Even though she was determined
not to cry, her eyes filled to the brim with tears. Before she reached the
smooth destination, two gloved hands planted themselves on either side of her.
Lazily, yet wide with fear, the blue beauty’s eyes traveled to meet two dark
orbs, shrouded with evil.
“N-no…” A hoarse whisper seeped from her parted lips. She was
gonna get it now. How could she let this happen? Why was she so stupid? Why did
she let herself stay there? Her mind continued to bombard her with questions.
What was he going to do? Vegita cocked his head to the side, snatching her
petite chin.
“So…my father decided to send me a whore after all.” He knew
that wasn’t all true, but he wanted to see what she would do. Vegita recalled
his thought earlier about this woman having spirit. It seemed to have vanished;
could she have really given up that early? Once the prince had finished his
insult, calling her a whore. Bulma’s temper had fired up. Vegita watched with
interest as her face became fearless and her eyes turned an icier blue than
before. Maybe he had spoken too soon. Maybe she was still as fiery as
before…that had intrigued him. He looked on, waiting to see what she would
“I’m no whore, you dirty bastard!” The enraged beauty screamed
in his face. Ouji Vegita chuckled lazily. Bulma shied back, realizing that she
went a little to far. Damn it, he was the most powerful of all saiyajin, and
there she went just cussing at him as if he was one of her workers.
“You’re right, you are not a whore. ” Bulma felt satisfied at
his correction. “You’re too god damn ugly.” After saying so, the young prince
removed his gaze from her in a silent insult. Bulma was raging mad by now and
frankly she didn’t care whether or not he was the most powerful saiyajin or not.
He had better not talk to her like that!
“You damn son of a bitch! How dare you say that to me! I am the
prettiest woman you’ll ever set your pathetic little eyes on, your majesty.” She
said the last two words with as mush sarcasm as she could muster. After
releasing her pent up anger for the saiyajin, Bulma felt great and she didn’t
really care what the damn prince did. Vegita, although stunned by her insolence,
did not kill her right away. He merely pulled his arms away from the wall and
crossed them; he was truly pissed.
“Hold your tongue bitch! You will regret saying that to the
Prince of Vegitasei!” He hissed. Bulma let out a haughty laugh.
“I’m more valuable to the Saiyajin Empire than you; I’ve made
every damn training facility ever used on this planet, not to mention the
weaponry used by the entire army. So really I am the one who makes you so
strong. Therefore, you should be thanking me. Really…what nerve!” The ouji was
frustrated because the damn woman was right, but he couldn’t back down now.
Vegita narrowed his eyes cruelly at her. If she hadn’t been so well known for
technology, he probably would have killed her, and that would have made his
father a little more than angry. Well at least she was good for something.
“If you value your life, slave, then I suggest you get to work.
You will do the cleaning, washing and prepare the food.” He was glad that he had
spotted her slave ring at the last second. So what if she was a technology
slave, she could still do housework, right?
“NANI?” Bulma asked hysterically. Vegita turned on his heel and
took his leave, satisfied since he had done such a magnificent job in pissing
her off. Still confused, Bulma spoke up.
“Why? Its only for one day!” The prince stopped and turned back
to face her.
“Oh, and about that…one day outside the temple is equivalent to
one year inside.” Immediately after he informed Bulma of the horrifying news, he
burst into a fit of laughter. Bulma stood staring at him. Her face paled and her
eyes were vacant. There really was someone out to get her. As she came back to
reality, Bulma realized that the prince had left her. Great. Now she had to
figure this all out. She sighed.
“And I don’t even have any clothes…” As if it wasn’t bad
The ouji walked calmly to start training. He couldn’t believe
he had wasted that much of his time over that stupid wench. As he stepped down
from the platform of the inner boundary, he could feel the gravity intensify
significantly. He smirked. Good, it was just like the gravitrons the woman had
made. At the thought of her, he wondered briefly if he should have warned her
about the intense gravity in the outer boundaries.
“Ba! Why should I watch out for her? What a waste of time.”
Waving off the thought, he began his persistent training.
Bulma stood in her tracks after the ouji left. He hadn’t killed
her. But why? After everything she had heard about him, he seemed like the type
to kill anything that he found not useful. What was she useful for then? There
had to be some reason she was still alive. Oh well, it was a good thing she
wasn’t dead. Bulma decided to just be thankful he kept her alive.
“Next time, I won’t let my anger out on him. That wasn’t very
pleasant.” She sighed, there was a lot to think about if she was going to be
staying here for a year. The blue haired woman turned in a circle looking
“Where to begin?” She asked herself aloud. Bulma walked
forward, taking in everything she saw. This place was huge! It was as big as the
entire palace! Still walking around, she gazed up at the massive chandelier
hanging in the main room. There were thousands of tiny glass bulbs that housed
the miniscule lights. It seemed to be the only source to light in the whole
room, which was absolutely huge. Continuing her search, she saw many doorways
that branched off into other rooms. The small woman made sure to take note that
there were no doors on any of the doorways. Bulma came to the first doorway she
found and walked through. Ahh, this was her previous hiding place. No doubt the
royal pain in the ass’s bedroom. Gazing over her shoulder she saw that his
bedroom was straight across from the entrance. That had been how she had been
able to see the guard without him seeing her. She smirked at her genius.
“I wish I had a bedroom like this.” Mumbling to herself, the
jealous girl left his bedroom and proceeded on to the other doorways in the
Vegita paused in mid flight to catch his breath. He hadn’t
eaten anything since that morning and training on an empty stomach didn’t work
for saiyajins. Maybe he’d go back and get some food. He hoped that slave woman
knew how to cook, because that was what she was about to do. A strange feeling
stung him when he realized that she would probably argue with him. What a
temper! Oh well, all the more fun to have. Smirking, Vegita left to go find the
slave and put her in her place.
She looked in the second doorway and saw a bathroom that could
rival the prince’s bedroom. Shaking her head at the unbelievable size of it,
Bulma left to examine the next room. She poked her head in to see a toilet room,
separate from the bathroom. The next door was a kitchen that was fairly large
and had a connected room with a table and chairs. Bulma walked around the
interior over and over until she got the idea of the layout and memorized where
everything was. It was exactly like a saiyajin palace, except that it was for
one saiyajin. Bulma looked at her wrist watch out of habit and gasped at the
“Wow, have I really been looking around for that long? And I’m
not even finished yet.” Sighing, Bulma thought of another set back. There wasn’t
a lab in the temple. What was she going to do all year? In thought, Bulma
mindlessly walked through the next doorway too see a laundry room. The whole
feeling in it was dark and sad. She pitied those lowly slave girls at the palace
that had to wash laundry. Even though it was sort of gloomy, it was rather
large. A table had been set up so clothes could be folded and atop that table
was a set of sheets. Perfect. She needed something to sleep on anyway.
“I haven’t even found a room to sleep in. There has to be one;
this place is enormous! Besides, there’s no way I’m sleeping on a couch, and the
floor is out of the question.” Thinking aloud, Bulma didn’t hear the room’s
other occupant until he was right behind her.
“I’m glad you found your office. This will be where you work,
woman.” Bulma jumped at the sound of his deep voice. Turning around angrily, the
scowling Bulma looked at him with a higher annoyance.
“Ha! I don’t think so!” Folding her arms, she continued. “My
brains won’t be wasted washing your stinking clothes…baka.” Bulma stated.
Vegita snapped. How dare she continue to insult him like that! Lunging forward,
he pinned her up against the wall by her throat.
“You will do exactly as I tell you, if you do not I will kill
you for disrespecting me!” He could feel the bob of her throat against his palm
as she tried to swallow. Bulma tried to nod her head but the pain of moving
under the pressure was excruciating. She whimpered slightly from the pain. With
his sense of authority back on track, Vegita dropped the blue beauty on the
floor. Bulma coughed violently and gasped for needed breath, while holding her
sore throat.
“Hmph, pathetic.” Vegita was about to turn and leave when he
remembered something.
“If you step down off the raised inner boundaries of this
place, you will be flattened by the higher gravity.” He knew she was
intelligent, so he didn’t go into detail. Bulma made no sign of acknowledgement
since she was having a hard enough time dealing with his violent reaction.
Vegita rose an arm in the air and took a whiff of his armpit. He tried not to
laugh at the disgusted expression on the woman’s face. Realizing that he smelled
horrible and he was drenched in sweat, Vegita pulled the armor off one piece at
a time. Bulma’s eyes widened as each piece hit the floor. Surely he
wouldn’t…her thought was interrupted as Vegita stood clad in his dark blue
boxers holding a pile of clothes. Quickly, Vegita threw the wet garments at
Bulma, which hit her square in the stomach. She held them warily.
“There’s your first job, woman. Get to work. AND I’m hungry, so
have some food ready soon!” With that, the ouji left proudly sauntering out in
his navy boxers and his head held high. As soon as the prince stepped into the
hall, Bulma shook off the pile of wet clothes. How gross! After all that she
said, he was still demanding her to do things for him. Her shoulders slumped as
she realized that this was exactly how it had been when she had been a tech
slave for Bardock the first time. Everyone ordered her around to do things. She
hated being treated like a dog; like she had no importance in life. That was why
she had been so delighted when Bardock had taken her in as a part of his science
team. It gave her higher rank in society and people didn’t treat her bad, or
they would suffer. She frowned, now it was like being brought back to square
one. Starting all over again. No, she wouldn’t let the arrogant asshole of a
prince steal her pride from her; she had a much higher viewpoint on life. It may
not be the best life, being a slave, but she’d be damned if that was going to
stop her! With a new sense of motivation, Bulma set to work, trying to get it
done as fast as possible. If she got it over with, then she could move on to
more constructive things. All she could do was comply, if she wanted to live. As
she filled the basin with hot water, she thought of the future. What was going
to happen when it was time to leave the temple? What were people going to think
about her? When she walked out, all the saiyajins would see and hate her for
contaminating their precious prince. She would probably be punished severely or
have to endure a horrid torture. The entire kingdom would scorn her for what had
happened. It was times like these that Bulma hated her vivid imagination. Where
did she come up with this? Shaking her head, Bulma gulped down her thoughts of
the future and concentrated on the task at hand; washing his royal bastard’s
clothes. This was better than death; she guessed.

* * * * *

Chapter Four: Dominance

Sighing slightly, Bulma padded over to her soft couch. Things
between her and the Almighty Pain in the Ass had settled down some over the past
few weeks. Since Vegita was hell bent on training, he was never around and as
far as Bulma was concerned that was a good thing. The times they did see each
other it was always, “bitch do this!” or “damnit, you weakling…” or “why can’t
you get it right?”, “it can’t be that hard!”, “you lazy bitch!”. Growling to
herself the blue locked girl gritted her teeth. All she ever did was wash his
stinking clothes, or cook his gigantic meals. Which were quite a frequent
occurrence; five times to be exact. What kind of a pig ate that much? But then
again, he looked just dandy. If he was wearing his training suit or only his
boxers, it was clearly evident that he had the body of a god. Bulma silently
slid onto the futon and pulled up her blanket.
She had long since finished scoping out the place she would be
calling home for a year and she still hadn’t found a room for herself. She
didn’t particularly care. The couch was massive and was the only piece of
furniture in the midst of the lounge room; the area was quite large too. Her
guess was that it served as a relaxation point, if the Saiyajin ever relaxed,
and so far he had not. Probably the only downside to the room was that there was
no entertainment whatsoever. After a few nights of sneaking around, she had
found some books that had been left for the Prince to read. No doubt he wouldn’t
though. Obviously the King had wanted Vegita to know a little about his race’s
past. He had no interest in such things. She had passed the time by reading
them. Not that she found the history to be particularly interesting, but she had
been bored.
One of the topics that had peaked her curiosity was the
Saiyajin mating ritual. To her surprise it was kind of romantic in a way. Bulma,
being the ever persistent genius, questioned the male dominance that factored
largely in the ritual. She read about the male chasing the female. That sort of
freaked her out, but then there was a further description of the
details. The way she interpreted it was that the male was seemingly always
stronger than the female he was seeking so he was supposed to track her down
physically all the while performing the same thing mentally. She was surprised
that such a barbaric race such as the saiyajin had the capability to go as deep
as mind manipulation. She tapped her nose, wondering how the female must feel
while they were being chased by a horny Saiyajin. She huffed, what would it be
like to be chased by a horny Vegita? She shook her head; Vegita may have been
fine to look at, but he was an ass at heart.
She’d have to ask Vegita about the ritual. Hopefully it would
make an interesting conversation, if he was even capable of having a decent one
with another being. An argument was better than nothing. It wasn’t that she had
a constant fear of him or anything; she just didn’t find his temper all that
great. And he had enough power to back it up. That was what scared her. The
young slave yawned gently fanning her mouth. She needed to get some sleep.
Clutching the blanket, she rolled over and drifted into the land of dreams.
Right punch. Left kick. Uppercut. Backhand. Left punch. Left
kick. Right punch. Roundhouse. On and on it went. The Saiyajin Prince was in a
battle with every shadow that hung from its origin. He paused for a thoughtful
moment and looked up. It was getting darker by the minute. Wait a second!?
“Why the hell is it getting dark? This is a temple for god’s
sake!” What was the point of having the training room get dark? The saiyajin
prince angrily lurched himself towards the ground proceeding to shadow box at an
impossible speed.
It was simple really; all he had to do was become the
Legendary, was that so hard? Growling, he disappeared into a flurry of
self-inflicted blasts leaving him panting and slightly burned. His breathing
became heavier as he slowly descended to the floor. Perhaps the problem was that
he was thinking about it to much. If so, he needed to stop and rest for a while.
Yes, then tomorrow he could resume his training at a higher level! Smirking,
Vegita began his walk back to the main rooms, all the while thinking of new
tests for himself to be able to increase his speed, and his strength, and his
Passing through the main living room he spotted the blue haired
nuisance he had been living with for three weeks sleeping peacefully on the
“Of all the people, I had to get stuck with her for a year…
loud mouthed, lazy, good-for-nothing…” A thought interrupted his insults and
caused a sly eye to drift towards the sleeping woman on the couch. He had to
control the urge to let a childish cackle seep through his smirking lips. His
idea was masked with a deep yawn that seemed to rack his whole body. Sleep was a
good thing; he’d sleep for a few hours and then train harder than ever
* * * * * 4:17am * * * * *
It didn’t take him long to properly awake. Actually, he had
been wide awake for a good five minutes now. A small smirk graced his lips as he
realized he had something to look forward to this morning. If he couldn’t kill
anyone, why not have some fun? He used to cause all sorts of chaos and mischief
in the palace when he had been a brat. It was his father’s harsh discipline that
had turned him into a statue… destined to rule the all powerful Saiyajin
Empire of Vegitasei. But, he smirked, his father wasn’t here now, so there was
nothing holding him back from playing his stupid childish games. Maybe that was
what the Saiya Temple was for… getting all the childish kinks out before
ascending to the right of King? Hmm, maybe?
He slipped out of his bed allowing his navy blue boxers to
unwrinkle as he strutted out the door of his suite. He crept silently; padding
his bare feet against the stone cold marble. His olive toned feet set off the
pearly white marble floors causing him to radiate a healthy dark color. Vegita
couldn’t help but let a giddy exhilarating feeling wash over him. He felt
younger, freer, and he welcomed the strange feeling without hesitation, not
caring what it meant about him. No one would know. Within seconds he’d reached
his destination.
He casually walked over to her sleeping form, and peered over
the couch’s head. There she was. He cocked a brow. What kind of weak species was
she anyway? She may have been weak, but she was also stunningly beautiful. Could
beauty outweigh strength?
“Hm.” A half grin/half smirk donned his tan face. Turning on
his heel, the saiyajin prince crossed his arms in a typical royal fashion. His
mouth opened slightly drawing in a deep breath and without hesitation released
watched as the
blue-haired slave jolted awake; lurching violently off the
bed and gasping as she landed with a hard thud on the cold floor.
The sleepy Bulma mumbled a few sounds, still trying to wake up
and gain control of her confused senses. Something about breakfast? Breakfast?
She took a deep breath letting it all register.
“BREAKFAST?!” She roared, jumping to her feet and balling both
feminine fists, waving one at him. Vegita casually turned to look at her. She
may not have had any strength, but she definitely had courage. His brow wrinkled
in an effort not to smirk.
“Well?” He asked calmly.
“Well what?!” She fired back.
“I’m hungry,” he stated. She rolled her eyes. Honestly… how
pathetic. “go cook my breakfast before I break your neck.” This time stated with
more fervency. She gulped her jitters down quickly. Stand up for yourself, she
said in her mind. Crossing her arms she turned away from him with her nose
“Hmph. Only if you let me get dressed perv.” Vegita’s eyes grew
wide. He hadn’t even thought about it, unconsciously his eyes roamed her
petite figure.
“Perv? Nani?!” His voice was astonished. She stood her
“You heard me… now go.” She grabbed one of the many folders
from the table and shooed him away. Vegita stood stunned and in utter disbelief
of her actions. His jaw hung slightly down. She turned the whole thing around
and made it look like she was bossing him! That… that… BITCH! Clenching his
fists in frustration, the almighty saiyajin prince wheeled around to leave. He
was extremely pissed.
Bulma lifted one of her eye lids and looked in Vegita’s
direction before laughing out loud triumphantly. Heh, that was actually fun, she
thought. And she had won! Yeah, girl power! Bulma couldn’t help but smile smugly
to herself. She eeped as she realized something. If he was as hungry as he
seemed to be AND he was pissed off, he would probably fulfill his threat of
snapping her neck if she didn’t make him food. A shudder ran through her as she
jerked off her tank top and boxers. She wrinkled her nose… saiyajin boxers…
HIS boxers. Well, the tank top was hers but since she hadn’t really planned on
staying for a year she didn’t have any pajamas. When the tailed prince had seen
her in them he had been disgusted that she was wearing his underwear.
Fortunately it only took him a few days to get used to it. She tugged on her
slave top followed by a pair of lab overalls. At least she was comfy.
“I better get to the kitchen… ” And off she went.
* * * * 2:28 pm * * * * *
A royally pissed Vegita stood in the middle of the marbled
training arena scowling. That bitch had turned his fun around to bite him in the
ass. He growled and raised a clenched fist. To make it all worse she had acted
like his damn mother during breakfast. Insulting him and saying that he was
supposed to be a prince not a pig. Maybe he should just vaporize her. No, he’d
be weak in doing so. His frown receded a bit. She was a weak creature…
physically. However, his black eyes drifted toward the living platform way in
the horizon, she was extremely intelligent for a slave… not to mention an
exceptional beauty.  He could not deny that. Bardock had moved her from the
tech slave division up to the science division and had even gone as far as
putting her on his personal team. As far as he knew there were no other slaves
on Bardock’s personal science team. His father had mentioned her name a few
times during development operations. He would always make sure she was the one
responsible for the blue-printing and organization of construction. She had been
the one to invent and produce the increased gravity rooms that he used for
She outsmarted him with her mind… that’s how he had to do it.
He had to find a way to make her clever little tricks backfire. It would be a
waste of intelligence otherwise. His tightly wound nerves began to calm. He
wanted her to see how it felt to be humiliated… he would show her. He felt a
slight pang in his stomach followed by the notorious rumble of hunger. Ah well,
timing was on his side today. He began his return; grateful of the rest he would
receive from the area of endless space. He smirked as he spiraled towards the
Bulma stood in front of the amazingly white wash basin.
Mumbling about doing HIS washing again she lifted up a blue spandex suit. Her
small nose was quick to curl.
“Jeez this thing stinks! What does he do out there?” She
complained aloud. Bulma quickly stuffed it into the wash bin to rid it of that
foul stench. She turned around to continue folding clothes, or actually an
endless amount of training suits. He had once said that he used one a day. Did
he have one a day for every day of the year?
“At least I don’t have to iron them. Grrr! I’m so sick of the
amount of cooking I have to do… and dishes. Why would I do the ironing as well?
Ha, what a joke!” Bulma held up one suit and stretched it out, the image of
Vegita’s powerful body filling it.
“He’s extremely well-built.” She mused aloud. “Very well
sculpted indeed, not bad for a Prince.”
Vegita was walking through the corridors and was about to turn
into the wash room when he heard her talking… about him. He paused outside the
door, leaning up against the wall with his arms crossed and a faint smirk on his
face. He’d let her ramble on a bit more. This was most amusing.
Bulma glanced down at her lab trousers and then back up to the
“Hmm. If he looks so good in them then I bet I’d look even
Vegita nearly laughed out loud. Is that so? He thought. Prove
She took a look around, scanning for the only other occupant.
Surely he wouldn’t’ be around for a while. Her hand reached up to unclasp the
fasteners on her overalls and was stripping the rest of her garments within
Vegita wondered what was happening. She wasn’t talking anymore.
What was she doing? Curious, he peeked inside the room. His eyes couldn’t
believe what they were seeing! She’s actually doing it. He choked in his
mind. He felt his stomach tighten as he saw her half-naked form. His dark brows
drew down into their notorious point. How peculiar this woman was. He couldn’t
even begin to figure out her actions. All he knew for sure was that she was a
daring little minx.
Bulma jumped up, allowing her sleek legs to slide into the
fabric. The material was a strange one. It molded to every slope on her body
while not feeling extremely tight or uncomfortable in any way. It was actually
very relaxing.
“This feels so nice.” She giggled freely as she pranced around.
She laughed loudly as she did a cartwheel, reveling in the freedom of her
“There’s no question about it,” She declared to herself. “I
look much better in this than he could ever look!” She laughed again.
Vegita huffed at her mocking him. He’d show her. And then with
a smirk, he disappeared off into the distance so that he was a ways away from
the wash room. He grinned… this would be fun.
His booming voice echoed through the endless corridors.
Bulma’s head turned at his call and she paled.
“Oh no!” She trembled. “I’m screwed!”

* * * * *

Chapter Five: Continued Conflicts

Bulma sat silently on the floor of the living room, neatly
folding all of his training suits. Oh what a day she had been through. Not only
did she make a complete fool out of herself in front of Vegita, but managed to
ensure her stay in this horrid temple would be that much worse. What she would
give to be back in the laboratories. Listening to Bardock shout orders was
better than folding the Saiyajin prince’s clothes. Bulma’s hand lingered on the
top of the blue material, grasping it tightly as she relived what had happened
earlier in the wash room, and just how his face had looked. A groan of
embarrassment seeped through her lips.
YET?!!!” His booming voice echoed through the endless corridors.
Bulma’s head turned at his call and she paled.
“Oh no!” She trembled. “I’m screwed!” Her violently shaking
hands tugged at the slick material trying in vain to rip it off her body. Oh God
if Prince Vegita saw her like this…* * * *
As soon as she had heard his voice he had rounded the corner
and seen her in a struggling heap on the tile floor trying desperately to
wrestle out of the tight suit. Bulma’s head dropped into her cradling hands as
she blushed for the hundredth time that day. The expression on his face had been
the most humiliating. Of all things he could have done he had to be absolutely
silent. Surely he thought her insane. His look was not that of shock, anger,
hatred, or amusement, but simply blank. Bulma felt the bittersweet sting of
tears but quickly blinked them away. No…the last thing she needed to do was dig
herself a hole of humiliation. She still had a bit of dignity, however small it
may have been. Events had unfolded beyond her control, but she could still
choose how to respond. And that’s exactly what she would do—respond to him in
the most calm and collected way possible. As if it had never happened. Bulma’s
blue eyes glittered in determination as she made her way to the kitchen for
something to drink. Maybe some tea would calm her restless nerves.
* * * * * * * * * *
Vegita hovered silently above the endless marble stone,
meditating studiously. As hard and cold as his face appeared his thoughts were
the exact opposite. His father had succeeded in surviving this hellish place so
why was he finding it so hard to stay focused? Then again his father hadn’t had
a woman with him while he tried to train. At first she hadn’t been a concern at
all, but eventually he could smell her everywhere—in his chambers, the kitchen,
the wash room- hell he could even smell her way out in the outer boundaries! His
eyes remained shut but the flesh beneath his eye twitched. Vegita nearly grinned
as he remembered her panicked face when he had walked in on her. Those huge blue
eyes twinkling up at him like a pair of the rarest jewels. He was sure she would
have graveled at his feet, begging him to forgive her, but she hadn’t. It had
been quite the opposite actually. Vegita tensed suddenly. A prince such as
himself should not be thinking about alien women slaves, no matter how
attractive they may be. He hissed at himself for getting distracted so easily.
Guessing that he had been meditating long enough to keep his mind focused on
improving is strength and not on the woman that was poking around the platform,
he opened his black eyes and prepared for an intense session. He unfurled
himself and powered up to his maximum, grating his teeth as electricity danced
around his tense body. Black eyes narrowed dangerously as he watched the small
bolts flicker around his hand. He could feel, almost taste it…but only faintly.
There was an enormous well of power deep within him yet he could not tap into it
despite all his training.
“AHHHHH!” With his head thrown back, the prince of Vegitasei
yelled with all his might in an attempt to break the barrier that kept him from
reaching his destiny.
* * * * * * * * *
Bulma hummed a soft tune as she walked to the cabinet and
grabbed the box of tea, preparing to make herself a cup. A faint memory of her
home world tugged at her—the vivid image of a woman singing the same song, but
Bulma couldn’t quite grasp who. Her shoulders shrugged indifferently as she put
the water on to boil. The tune continued to fill the room as she sat down at the
table, slowly flipping the pages of her current book, Saiyajin Anatomy and
Physiology. It was quite interesting to see that their components were nearly
identical to her own. Her eyes drifted to the wall ahead of her as she thought
of nothing in particular. Focusing on the off white paint, she noticed that the
walls looked a bit odd. Something was different…something was strange about
them. They looked like… “Panels…” She whispered absently. The pot of water began
to whistle loudly, stirring her from her seat—all previous observations
forgotten. Her hand clenched the padded handle as she carried it to the counter
to pour into her mug. Before she reached the other side of the kitchen her grip
on the handle slipped. Bulma’s blue eyes widened as she heard Vegita’s cry. She
screeched as the pot clang to the tile floor, spilling its contents against her
leg. She choked on her own cry of anguish as the scalding water seared her pale
skin. Hoisting herself up onto the counter, she slipped her leg into the sink
basin and let the cool water run over her scarlet skin.
“Owww,” she hissed. Despite her leg, she couldn’t help but
wonder what would have made Vegita yell out like that. As much as she wanted him
to be suffering she couldn’t lower herself to that level of cruelty. Even though
he was an intolerable jerk, no one deserved to be hurt and stranded in
unbearable gravity. If it weren’t for the gravity, she would have gone to see
what had happened. “Eh,” she began, “I’m sure he can handle himself.” With her
head propped on her hand, she sat atop the counter waiting for the burning to
cease. Bulma pouted; she never had gotten her cup of tea.
* * * * * * * * * *
Vegita’s breath hitched in his throat as he lay exhausted on
the ivory stone floor. For hours he had pushed himself in pursuit of increasing
his strength in probably the most intense session he had ever completed, yet the
power deep inside him wasn’t even the slightest bit brighter. As the Saiyajin
prince it was his obligation to reach the Legendary level so why? Why couldn’t
he accomplish what he had been bred to accomplish? His blood was of the royal
line and held the ancient trait! So why?! His own anger made him cough
violently, probably splitting a rib in the process. Slowly he propped himself up
onto an elbow, shakily attempting to rise. If he could just get back to the
platform then he would be able to sleep in normal gravity. He staggered to his
feet and stood in his tattered training armor decorated with his life’s blood.
The wound on his forehead dripped into his eye making him see everything in a
slightly pinkish hue. Vegita desperately tried to concentrate on enough power to
fly back. The warming passion of his ki threaded through his muscles as he rose
into the air, barely hovering above the ground. He hoped he could make it to the
damn platform.
* * * * * * * * * *
Bulma walked to her futon bed and flopped against it lazily,
relishing in the soft fabric. She smiled grandly as she stretched out, only to
wince as she felt her burned skin stretch as well. Hissing, she bent down to
scratch lightly at the gauze wrapped around her calf. She stood and walked
slowly, as to not stretch the skin anymore, over to the wash room to find some
more ointment to put on her burn. As long as she kept the tender skin lubricated
she’d be fine. Bulma walked into the bathroom and up to the cabinet where first
aid supplies were kept. Upon opening the box she found two full tubes of cream.
“Thank God,” she said gratefully. The box dropped from her
grasp as nearly the whole complex was shaken violently. Bulma gasped as she was
tossed into the wall. Her blue eyes widened incredibly as she attempted to run
to wherever the impact had occurred. As soon as she saw what had hit the
platform she screamed. “Prince Vegita!” He lay in a deep impression, no doubt
created by his own bodily force, completely out cold. “Oh God,” she gasped.
Bulma pulled Vegita’s arm out from under him so she could drag him into the
bathroom where she would be able to find the necessary medical supplies.
Grunting as she heaved his massive bulk onto the countertop, her pale hand
reached for his throat to check for a pulse. Bulma gasped as his hand latched
onto her own.
“Get away from me, woman. I’m— ” She gasped as his eyes rolled
back and his hand detached from her wrist, falling with a thud on his armored
chest. He wasn’t so intimidating when he was unconscious.
“So prideful even when you’re knocking on death’s door.” Her
blue head shook as she checked his pulse, satisfied at its strength. Bulma
reached down to grab the box of supplies and began removing his armor.
* * * * * * * * * *
Vegita’s black lashes fluttered slightly as he awoke on his
bed, the lights dimmed to their lowest. Huh? His room? Immediately he sat up,
confused at what was going on, only to wince at the pain radiating from beneath
his chest. He slid his hand down over his ribs, but was met with soft bandages,
not armor. His eyes drifted down to see that he was indeed only clad in his
boxers. Vegita’s cheeks heated.
“What the hell,” he asked aloud, wondering what had happened to
his armor. Suddenly Vegita’s attention was diverted to a strange sound coming
from outside his chambers. He stepped awkwardly toward the door, fighting the
lightheaded feeling. Clasping the door way, he leaned over to see the woman
folding his clothes. Vegita flushed as he saw she was wearing his underwear.
God, this woman had no respect for royalty. His eyes flicked momentarily to the
white bandages that she had wrapped around her lower leg. A black eyebrow
tweaked in curiosity but he couldn’t concentrate with that noise. What was that
strange sound she was making? He stumbled unsteadily into the living room
growling slightly at his own awkwardness.
Bulma hummed softly as she finished folding the laundry when
she was startled by a growl. She gasped as she looked at Vegita’s perturbed
face. Her hands laced together in front of her stomach as she fidgeted with her
“Woman, what the hell happened? Where are my clothes?” Vegita noted her tense form as he approached.
“I-I threw them away. They were badly damaged…” Bulma made an extreme effort to not look him in the eye. He had never been this intimidating  before. Something told her that he was not a happy prince, but to her surprise he smirked.
“Just couldn’t wait to get my clothes off, eh?” he began.
Vegita watched her mouth drop open. “I guess that explains why you were wearing my training clothes yesterday; because you’re infatuated with me.” Vegita watched as she turned from apprehensive to fuming mad.
“Now you listen here princey! I just saved you from whatever the hell you were doing to yourself out there. If not for me you’d have been a lot worse off. So the LEAST you could do is thank me!” Unbeknown to her, Bulma had managed to limp forward as she yelled at him and was now standing a few feet from his near naked form.
Vegita fought the urge to just double over and laugh at her.
How foolish she looked limping around like that while trying to shout at him.
Instead his face remained as stoic as ever. He eyed her bandaged leg for the second time.
“I am the Saiyajin Prince as well as an elite warrior, not a squabbling brat that needs to be bandaged!” Vegita pointed to her calf, “Looks to me like you’re the one who needs to be taken care of.”
Bulma flushed. “I did take care of it,” she replied meekly, but Vegita’s powerful voice transcended hers.
“Pathetic –  What kind of species are you anyway? To think that I would need the care of a weak slave such as you is degrading.” His princely stature accompanied by the fact that he was only wearing boxers amusingly made his statements less harsh, but not enough to negate the bitter tone he threw at her.
Bulma narrowed her eyes at him. She would not let him humiliate her again, not after yesterday’s incident. No, she would bide her time and get him back for this.
“Fine. If you would rather die from your own stupidity then take my medical help, then by all means please do as you will. I don’t care.”
Bulma turned to leave but thick fingers wrapped around her arm and pulled her back. She gasped as he hauled her up into his face.
“Watch your tone wench; be mindful of what you say to me. It is my decision to keep you around, not yours. If you make one insolent remark to me again I will put you down.” He was not playing with her today. His voice was so full of malice and the coldness seeping from his eyes told no other story. As quick as he had held her, he had gone. Bulma stood, shaking from the sheer malevolence in his eyes. Vegita truly meant it …“ he would kill her with no thoughts about it.
Bulma’s eyes narrowed at his retreating back. How dare him! She had just helped him and this is how he repaid her? With insults and death threats?! Well fine. Two could play at that game. Bulma turned around to continue folding, but her mind was busily forming her own little revenge against the arrogant prince. She’d show him just how much more she was more than a weak slave, “More than a weakling woman, much more.” Once again, the beautiful tune filled her head as she hummed softly.

* * * * *

Chapter Seven: Backfire is a Bitch

A faint glow was starting to seep from the light fixtures in the hallways. The false morning had no effect on the blue haired slave working meticulously in the kitchen. Her small hands grasped clumps of wires massed together and neatly arranged them in the dark cavity. The corners of her mouth tweaked upwards as she placed the last of the reconfigured wires and their corresponding terminals back into the wall. Rising to her feet, Bulma began to latch the panels back into place. As she snapped the last piece into its place, she sighed in satisfaction. “Finally, I’m…”
“What is it with you and the kitchen?” a raspy voice suddenly asked. Bulma spun on her heel with her heart in her throat to meet his dark eyes. “You, who have protested and fought my every command to work… Perhaps your obstinate mind has finally acquiesced to the inevitable,” Vegita teased as approached the counter and leaned on it humorously, with his fists pressed against the sides of his face in a relaxed pose.
Bulma narrowed her eyes at his degrading and sarcastic remarks, but she didn’t say a word. Not when she was so close to having her revenge. Instead she tilted her head up, and walked towards the other side of the counter and faced him, mimicking his position. Her blue eyes stared at his face. She ignored the fact that he was still only in his boxers, leaving her at the mercy of his rippling chest muscles. Vegita was perfectly aware of his god-like body, and she had no intention of giving his ego any boosts. Heh… that was the last thing he needed. Bulma gazed straight into his eyes, just as he was doing to her, and they stayed that way. It was a contest of wits, to see who was able to peer the deepest into the dark recesses of the other’s mind.
Vegita stared at her eyes, such a piercing blue, not like any he had ever seen, then again he hadn’t seen many creatures with blue eyes. Such ferocity and stubbornness… what had made her that way? His gaze deepened and it seemed as if her life was playing out before him. He watched as she was snatched from her parents and dragged on board a ship… a Saiya-jin ship, and left to suffer from malnutrition and loneliness in a dark cell for weeks it seemed. It was an ongoing play, one scene beginning before the last had ended. The day that she arrived on Vegita-sei, and was forced to be classified… her first night in the slave quarter. The humiliation she had endured as a slave, the persecution and harassment from Saiya-jin guards. It seemed to last forever, but Vegita saw everything. He watched as she was selected by Bardock to be a member of his science team, such passionate joy in her face. Vegita saw all of the kindness Bardock gave her and in turn she became his greatest prodigy. He blinked and the pictures disappeared, but he didn’t move an inch. Vegita stared straight ahead into her eyes, which were seeking for their own story. Quickly, he wrenched his eyes away from hers and moved towards the table, looking up at her confused expression. “Well? Get me some breakfast,” he ordered.
Bulma stood in disbelief. What an asshole! Suppressing her strengthening urge to scream at him, she began to prepare breakfast while giving him the nastiest look she could muster. Yet another reason to get back at him. He would regret the day he forced her to stay in this damned temple with him.
Vegita smirked as she obeyed, glad that there was no protest. He peeked at her from the corner of his eye and watched as she walked around the kitchen, gathering different food stuffs to make him his usual meal. Vegita’s dark eyes drifted down her form. So small… Vegita blinked, wondering what had spurred that thought. He looked at her again, analyzing her figure.
Bulma carefully sliced two ripe fruits, careful of her fingers. So far her luck in the kitchen had been a little less than satisfactory. The last thing she needed was to cut up her fingers. She would need them when she was finally able to go back to the labs. Ah, the familiar hustle and bustle of the tech labs would be absolutely divine compared to serving this pompous son-of a-… Bulma glanced at him fleetingly. He was staring at her! She felt her cheeks redden, but for what she didn’t know. So what if he’s ogling? Let him dream. With a mental huff, she turned and carried the plate of fruit to the table. He was still looking at her and made no move to hide it.
Vegita’s eyes were glued to her, as if he had suddenly realized that a woman had been with him for three months yet he hadn’t noticed just how beautiful she was… until now. She looked over at him very briefly, noting his stare, and to his amusement she blushed. A small smirk twined its way onto his face. She walked steadily over to him, and he had to be grateful that for once she was not wearing his boxers. Instead it was a simple dress that fell to right above her knee. Where had she gotten that, he wondered. A plate was set in front of him displaying his favorite fruits. Vegita ate in silence as she proceeded making breakfast, his eyes following her every move.
Bulma felt every muscle in her body tense. What had possessed him to be like this? Her mind churned unpleasantly. He knew… he knew about her plan! There was no other explanation to his behavior. Why else would he look at her in such a way? Trying to appear normal, Bulma walked to the refrigerator to get more food. She was trembling, she could see her tensed hand wavering. He knew! He knew and she was done for! For a brief second she was unstable, but she bit her cheek. No. If he had known, surely by now he would have done or said something, right? She prayed to whatever deity loomed over Vegita-sei that she was right.
Vegita ate slowly, watching Bulma with a calculating stare. He knew perfectly well that he was unnerving her by staring. It pleased him to know that she was as easily manipulated now a she first was. But there was a strangeness about her now, something that he couldn’t quite place. Anxiety, perhaps? But over what? He dismissed it and finished his fruit only to be given another plate heaping with food.
* * * * *
Bulma scurried from the kitchen as soon as he was done. Gods, he was disturbing. What on Veita-sei has gotten into him? Whatever it was she didn’t like it one bit. At least she had quit shaking. A quick glance past the doorway revealed an armored prince strutting of towards the outer boundaries. She grinned; it was time to play revenge. After he flew into the outer boundaries, she began to tweak the controls, only slightly at first, playing with him and moving the dial forward and back. Gradually, she increased the g’s a few notches at a time until it was just over two times the normal gravity of Vegita-sei.
“Let him sweat with that for a while,” she said while turning to get a bite to eat. She hummed to herself while fixing a sandwich. Bulma snickered to herself. Feeling bold she turned the dial up passed three times the norm. “Oops, maybe the Vegita no Ouji should have kept that tongue in check.” She retreated to the table to finish her sandwich, and continue her latest book. If anything, she would have gained some knowledge of the Saiya-jins whilst being in this confounded temple.
* * * * *
Gods he felt heavy. Vegita wiped the back of his hand over his forehead, surprised at the amount wetness he found. He stared at his hand dripping with sweat. After all the training he had done in the gravity of the outer boundaries there was no way his body could react like this. Angrily, he continued, ignoring his body’s protests to the high gravity. However, after only a few minutes, he was forced to stop again.
“Damnit! What the hell is wrong with me?!” Vegita’s chest heaved up and down with ferocity. Suddenly the room seemed to tilt and he found the ground approaching him fast. He threw his hands out to meet it, and blinked when he heard the slap of his flesh hitting the marble. As he sat there, he noticed his gasping breaths and aching body increased in intensity. “What the hell is going on?” he managed to say. His arms began to buckle from the overbearing weight pressing down on him. Vegita gasped as his face struck the floor, leaving him slightly dazed. His mind began to wander as he seemingly left reality.
The night he came back late from training and the woman was still up, busy working in the kitchen, she had been so scared. He would have smirked if it were possible. Vegita remembered her face as she tried to explain herself. *”I-I was just cleaning up the kitchen before I went to bed…
His mind tugged at him- she was hiding something. Vegita’s thoughts drifted to earlier in the morning. *”What is it with you and the kitchen?”* Even though he had poked at her temper she had not countered him with her usual bitter tone and insolence. The strange behavior- What was she hiding?
His eyes widened as the realization donned on him. The kitchen, her odd passiveness, the late night work… it all made sense! She was tampering with the temple somehow! Vegita growled. He should have known she would do something like this. She was too smart to just be sitting around all day doing nothing. “Damnit woman,” he rasped. His shoulders shook with fury. Knowing that he had been reduced to such a pitiful and pathetic pile of agonizing flesh and bone slashed at his pride. “Woman…” Vegita’s vision began to blur, the white room took on a sudden misty hue. Yet again he was nothing but a spot on the floor, just as he had been countless times at the feet of his father laughing above him. “No!” he growled, pushing the looming image of his father out of his mind. His body trembled as the fire inside him surged closer to his reach. He could taste it! Ah, the sweet power that had eluded him for so long, it was touchable, he could sense its deep wealth erupting within him. The richness of it brought him back to his senses. All around him a saffron aura began to lick at his limbs, burning him with a sweet singe. It was his! The gravity lifted and he flew to his feet, relieved at his freedom and his new supremacy. Everything the legend said was true! Such a deep reserve of magnificent power! Vegita threw his head back and laughed, the chilling sound echoed all the way to the inner boundaries. He smirked, now he would pay that little wench back for humiliating him. Either she was incredibly brave, or she had lost her mind. She wanted to play rough, did she? The Saiya-jin no Ouji licked his lips, what price would have to be paid?
Bulma was on her feet instantly. How was it possible? There was enough gravity pressing down on him to kill a hundred Saiya-jin warriors. She paled at what happened next.
“Vegita!” Bulma spoke breathlessly, knowing full and well that he was never going to let her live this one down. His voice was raw and thunderous, there was no doubt in her mind that he would kill her, it was the manner of which that sent her running. There was no sanctuary for her anywhere in this temple. Her bare feet slapped on the marble as she ran down the hallways. She gasped… he was coming!
Vegita flew to the inner boundaries and through the halls, blowing everything out of his way. She was hiding. That little wench thought she could hide from him? The Legendary? “Ha! Woman, come and face your fate. Running won’t get you anywhere.”
Bulma felt all her passion, all the meaning in everything she had done, drain from her completely. Such foolishness… what had she accomplished besides bringing her death quicker? She found herself beating on the temple doors, just as she had done the first day, tears streaming down her face. No, she wasn’t supposed to die like this, she was so stupid! A sound… slowly she turned, unprepared for what was standing mere feet away from her. Her jaw hung. He was… he was…
Faster than her human eye could follow, he had her pinned to the wall, his face brushing hers. “You ungrateful, pathetic excuse for a creature, you dared to attack me behind my back? What a disgrace you are… no sense of honor whatsoever.” Bulma tensed, ready to be struck. Vegita snickered and pushed her even harder into the wall before releasing her. In a crumpled heap, she collapsed to the hard floor straining to fight the tears that were pounding to be let out. No. If these were her last moments, she would not spend them as a sobbing mass at the feet of one of the monsters who had taken her away from all she loved, her home, her family, her friends…
Vegita watched as she struggled with herself. His eyes once again roamed that delicate form of hers. A sudden instinctive urge drove him forward, leaving him poised in front of her no more than a breath away. What was it that made her so appealing? He sniffed her neck, breathing in her scent deeply, she tensed and leaned back. Growling, he pulled her forward, inhaling the air around her. She had dared to defy him, had attacked him, tried to kill him… was that it? His eyes narrowed as he looked down on her. An erratic heartbeat… she was scared, no terrified, she thought she was going to die. Yet there was a strange heat coming from her. Vegita smirked and leaned even closer, tilting her face up towards his.
Bulma watched as he peered deep into her eyes, and did the same to him. She was surprised to receive a picture of Vegita as a child, barely six, standing next to his father, who was so full of overbearing pride that he didn’t notice his son. Bulma watched as he grew from a toddler to a teen; saw the horrendous training his father pushed on him… the Queen’s brutal death, ordered by the King. It killed him, killed whatever chance he’d had to become something good and nice, his love and kindness beaten from him and torn away all by his mother’s death, and the hand that had done it. Total detachment from life. Vegita closed himself off from the world, developing a hateful façade to all around him, if only to prevent ever having to feel what he had gone through at the death of his mother again. His adoration for his father ended and was replaced with a loathing at such a level that Bulma could not comprehend. Instead she only saw the burning, white hot rage coiled around and around his heart, like a hideous serpent circling an ancient treasure. Bulma saw the numerous fights with his father that all ended in Vegita’s sorrowful defeat, sorrow that he had to keep on living with the hate that he knew would kill him if he didn’t kill it first. Over time he grew and matured to become the strongest, yet he was waiting for something. The rage for his father turned into the source of power he used to attain what no other had done. She could feel the deep well within him and taste the metallic surge of power that was of mythic proportions, the power that would free his heart from its binds and give him back what his father had taken when he had killed the Queen.
Vegita was… “the Legendary,” Bulma gasped as her eyes focused to see his emerald gaze. Her eyes softened. Vegita growled, “Bitch! I ought to kill you painfully for your insolence!” But she didn’t flinch, she didn’t waver, she was perfectly solid. Her hand came up to rest on his cheek, Vegita jerked back, grabbing her hand in defense.
“What the –” he began, but she had changed, her fear was no more, and the heat was stronger. What was that heat? She was hot… for him? Vegita grinned. A ferocious smile that seemed almost too predatory to be of any affection. Bulma yelled as he shoved his weight forward, pushing her to the ground. His breath kissed the skin of her cheek. “You will learn to be more careful when playing with a Super Saiya-jin, woman,” he chuckled, pressing his nose to the side of her neck.
Bulma’s first instinct was to push and shove and kick, but the anger didn’t come. Why? She hated him, hated his entire race. No, she didn’t hate Bardock, or his son Kakarott, but she hated Vegita, didn’t she? He was the one who had humiliated her, treated her like a low class slave when she was anything but. She was hardly a slave; she was the tech assistant to Bardock, the only person on Vegita-sei that could claim any credit for where they stood now! But still, the anger wouldn’t come; instead she felt a warm, comforting heat resonate from deep within her. Bulma relaxed slightly, turning her head to give Vegita more flesh. She gasped suddenly, his hands were on her and soon her clothes were gone, but she was met with his warm naked body. It was all a heated haze; he kissed and nipped along her neck down to her chest, leaving a trail of passionate warmth to spread all over her body.
Vegita felt her hands come up to hold his head closer to her body. She was so hot and soft, it was wonderful. His hands moved on their own, teasing and stroking her softness, eliciting small cries form her, her back arching from his sweet torture. Soon he found himself above her, one knee between her silky thighs, smoothing his calloused hands over her bare stomach. So soft… He leaned forward and whispered in her ear. “You are mine, woman.” And he entered her in one stroke, leaving her at the mercy of stillness.
Bulma writhed under him; it was more than she could take. The pain was sharp and gnawing at her limits, but he paused for her, understanding that this was her first time. Soon the pain faded enough to be bearable. Then he began to move within her, slowly at first letting her grow accustomed to his size. He moved above her increasing his thrusts and the strength. “Yes… mine,” he rasped, driving into her even deeper. Bulma cried out as she clenched around him painfully. The tickling sensation of his teeth scraping across the delicate skin of her shoulder soon turned sharp and his teeth were deep in her soft flesh. Then everything ignited into a whirling storm of pleasure… she couldn’t put a name to the feelings she was experiencing. It was so much… too much… too good. She screamed his name as he cried out above her.
Vegita collapsed on top of her, rolling to the side and taking her small form with him. Bulma laid her head against his sweat sheen chest, her long blue waves sticking to his damp skin, and sobbed… in pain and pleasure. There was one question that she had to know the answer to… the answer would either kill her or keep her sane.
“What does this mean?” her voice was so quiet she hardly heard herself.
Vegita was startled by it, yet he knew it had to be asked. “This… is a union forbidden by every law and custom of my people…”
Her tears ran unheeded, she felt her mind tilt.
“… but…but you are still mine, no one will ever touch you. I swear it.” His arms crushed her thin body to his. Bulma hiccupped, letting all of her tears flow over his corded chest. Vegita’s brows furrowed. Why was she crying? Had he hurt her badly? He had known there would be some pain, there always was the first time but…
“Woman,” he began, but she sagged against him, completely exhausted and utterly unconscious. Rising, the Saiya-jin no Ouji walked quietly to his bed, setting her limp form down on the soft mattress. He stroked her tear stricken face, brushing the salty liquid from her skin. Gods, she was beautiful. He covered her naked body with the sheets, watching as she curled around them seeking warmth at the absence of his body.
He knew that she would never be accepted in the court. But she was his, something had driven him to take her, something that he had had no control over, and he wasn’t the least bit remorseful. She was a proud creature, much like himself. The knowledge of her spirit had not slipped his mind, he knew that she would not accept the relationship as it would be under royal law. But she would have to wait just a little while longer. He had broken the barrier. Yes, that was the ultimate achievement he had set out to gain, but there was more inside him. He could improve this new power, make it stronger. Then he would emerge and show all of Vegita-sei his true power, the power he had been sleeping inside him since he was a babe. With this new power he would finish the last lingering memory of his hate, rage and guilty sorrow of not being able to save his mother… he would kill his father and rule Vegita-sei as the Legendary.

* * * * *

Chapter Eight: Reflections and Future Conflicts

Through the hazy swirls of fleeting dreams, the soft warmth of reality shone down on her bare skin. The sunny beach in her dream slowly drifted away, the people on the white shore waved at her, sad smiles on all of their faces. The soft lapping of the water around her ankles, the tangy sea air, the smiling faces…all of it was just a faded memory of her younger years when she was home. She felt herself release a deep breath that she hadn’t realized she was holding. Regretfully, she opened her eyes and immediately remembered what had happened. His bright, burning golden body above her, his mouth searing her flesh, their heat melting into one mass of fire. A shiver swept down her spine. He wasn’t there, she noted as the space next to her was empty and cold.
“Vegita…” Bulma murmured. Strangely she wasn’t angry or vengeful about it all, just sad. Did he realize what he’d done? What he’d created? She wasn’t sure, one finger absently traced the bruises coiled around her arm. Another sigh and she got up, stretching out the soreness and kinks from the night before. Looking in the full length mirror in the corner of his room, she saw the full extent of what Vegita had done. Bulma frowned. “That dumb—”
“Heh, what a fragile thing you are,” Vegita said from the doorway. He chuckled when she scrambled for something to cover herself. “Woman, I’ve seen all that already,” he reminded as she wrapped a nearby towel around her battered body.
Bulma sneered. “Well, I still have my modesty. It’s not every day I get knocked off my feet and screwed until I pass out. Not to mention nearly get ripped in half.” She walked to the door and paused, waiting for him to move so that she could go find some clothes.
“You are very lucky to end up with only a few bruises. Saiya-jin mate very roughly.” Vegita grinned, looking down at the black handprints on her upper arms. Funny, he hadn’t grabbed her that hard… or at least he didn’t think so.
“Lucky, huh? Sure. You also ripped my new dress to shreds. It took me forever to find the material to make it.” Bulma frowned and thought to herself if she still had enough fabric left.
Vegita’s brow creased to a fine point on his forehead. The woman had no idea just how close she’d come to death. He had been angry, half mad when he’d taken her. The thought of her being battered to death by him sent a feeling of dread down his spine, zigzagging through his vertebrae and threading through his muscle fibers. “Woman,” he began but stopped himself. It was best she didn’t know… she would think he had no control, that he was weak.
Bulma looked up at him, still waiting for him to step aside so she could leave. At that moment he shifted, giving her enough space to slip by, as if he just realized that she had been standing there waiting. Bulma turned sideways to squeeze through the gap, making her way to the small futon where her clothes where. To her surprise he followed her, she paused, unsure about what to do. Would he be mad if she walked in front of him? How did their union change the relationship they had? Bulma slowed down until he was walking next to her. “So,” she prompted. “What are you going to do now that you’re a—” she stopped, wondering if this was pushing it.
“A Super Saiya-jin?” Vegita finished, seemingly unbothered by her choice of discussion. “I will finish my training early; we will leave sooner than expected. Even though by law you should be executed for your actions against the Royal Heir to Vegita-sei’s throne, you will be pardoned from your sentence.” He smirked, glancing at her peripherally as they walked slowly towards the small room she had taken to. He watched as she tensed like a serpent ready to strike in defense, her hands clenching into small fists.
Bulma released the breath she was holding, and noticed that she had tightened every muscle in her body when he had mentioned the word ‘executed’. At least she would be allowed to live and go back to working with Bardock. Despite her gratefulness, she couldn’t help but wonder why he was pardoning her. Sure they had had sex, but to a Saiya-jin that held no special meaning, especially since it was an alien coupling. It was a common occurrence for warriors to use slaves. Still, a flare went off in her mind, a beacon signaling a ship at sea that a reef was nearby. There was something in his voice, a slight alteration from the norm.
“But,” Vegita began.
Bulma felt her stomach drop to her feet and below into the heart of Vegita-sei herself. A catch. There was always a catch. Her vision darkened until all she saw was the angular face of the Saiya-jin no Ouji staring at her with something close to a predatory smirk slapped on his face. “But?” she repeated, her throat dry with anxiety.
“You will return with me and stay in the palace.” Vegita watched her face, overcome with so many different emotions. She was a strange creature. It was so obvious what was going on through her mind. Her eyes plainly showed fear, anger, and confusion. The first tear slipped down her cheek. Vegita stepped forward and reached out to grasp her chin, tilting it up so that he could see into her eyes and understand exactly what it was that made her so fragile. She was made of glass, so majestic and beautiful from far away, yet when he came close enough to touch her, she shattered into thousands of pieces and scattered on the floor, creating prisms of light to shower over him… still beautiful.
“A union forbidden by every law and custom of your people… that’s what you said. So, why? Why are you taking me back with you?” she hiccupped, shaking every time a new sob wracked her small frame.
Vegita’s frowned deeper. What was it that made her so upset? He had offered to take her back, hadn’t her? She was making no sense. He growled softly. “Woman.” Slowly he trailed a finger down her face, following the flow of tears and wiping them off of her skin. The sobbing ebbed and her back straightened as she looked up into his ebony depths. Swirls of blue and icy white stared back at him.
“We will leave in few months, until then you will keep increasing the gravity in the outer boundaries. It seems that is the only way I can increase the level of my training. I will leave the Saiya Temple as a legend in the flesh and every Saiya-jin warrior on Vegita-sei will know who is the strongest.”
Bulma nodded and turned away from him, moving over to her futon, sending him a patient look. The look on his face was dream-like, staring at a spot in the air only he could see, as if he was still in awe of his own power. He wasn’t even acknowledging her.
“Ahem,” she prompted.
“Huh?” Vegita looked up and frowned. “What?”
“I need to change…”
The Saiya-jin no Ouji rolled his eyes and turned to leave, grinding his teeth. She was still shy about her body even after what he’d done to her. Shaking his head, he smirked. Sooner or later she’d get over it. The smirk grew into a full out grin as he noticed a spark of something new in her spirit, he would have to double check later but he was nearly certain that there was an extra boost in her ki signature.
Bulma walked silently into the kitchen where Vegita was seated at the table eating the remains of a lunch. He seemed to not notice her entry, but she knew his instincts were far too acute for that. Bulma pulled a glass down from the cabinet and poured herself some juice. She contemplated whether to go sit at the table with him, but couldn’t decide if he would be angry about it. Shrugging to herself, she advanced to the chair opposite him and sat. Once gain he seemed to not even realize she was there. Oh well. Smiling, she tapped her fingers on the table to the beat of her song and calmly waited for him to finish. This was their new routine: he woke up, ate breakfast, and “warmed up” for a few hours. To her his warm up was always a tad more strenuous than the average warm up, but of course she kept her “foolish woman opinions” to herself. Then, he came back for lunch and she increased the gravity from his warm up sequence to something more challenging. And then the “real workout” began. After four weeks he had increased his gravity training considerably but he still cursed himself for a weakness that she could not see. It was never enough for him, and she swore that if she wasn’t there to dissuade him from trying to double the increments then he would be one flat monkey. She nearly smiled at that.
“So,” Bulma began. “How are the gravity workouts going?”
Vegita paused after a drink of juice and looked at her skeptically. It wasn’t usual for her to ask him anything like that, but then again she wasn’t normal by any means to begin with. He almost smirked.
Bulma shook her head, wondering if she had slipped over the line, and sat silently as he finished the remains of his rice. She had to admit that this was much better than before. If she had initiated a conversation during a meal two weeks ago there was no doubt that he would have gotten pissed beyond words. But now… he was strangely passive. It was nice, but she still felt uneasy… as if he might suddenly switch back to the cold, hard monster he’d been before.
“Today you will double my increments,” Vegita said, as he leaned back from the table.
Bulma stiffened. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to do that.” Vegita frowned and paused in eating. “You’re pushing yourself too hard…” His growl interrupted her.
“I don’t need your advice when determining what level I can or cannot tolerate. I am a warrior, the Saiya-jin no Ouji.” Vegita’s dark eyes narrowed, his elbows rested on the table’s edge as he crossed his thick forearms in front of his chest. As always he had come to breakfast in nothing but his skin and a pair of boxers.
Bulma had to fight the blush that was creeping up her cheeks. He looked absolutely adorable all scrunched up like that… she pinched herself and blinked. No…he was too damn stubborn for his own good; he was going to kill himself if he was so reckless.
“Vegita, look,” she sighed, “at least work up in smaller increments. Don’t just double it like that.” Her eye pleaded with him and to her amazement he suddenly looked away and stood up, abandoning his food. But before he reached the door he turned his head back over his shoulder.
“Fine.” She hardly heard it. “But tomorrow I’m doubling it,” he said and then strutted out to stretch.
Bulma opened her mouth to yell at him but wisely checked herself. Shaking her head she got up to put away his leftovers for tomorrow. She paused, blinking. Now that wasn’t normal.
Vegita stood in the outer boundaries, lightly stretching before his warm up. The woman was making him feel strangely. He snorted… he had actually left part of his meal because she was so … He growled. She was becoming a distraction. During breakfast he had made sure to check again for the spark and indeed there was another ki inside her. A brat… his brat. Was he ready for such responsibility? He shook his head. There would be another time to think of such things, right now he had to concentrate on training. As long as he kept a fair distance between himself and the woman there shouldn’t be a problem.
“Shouldn’t…” he mused to himself. His muscular shoulders shrugged in a sigh, he had a gnawing feeling that she would never cease to be a distraction but rather increase her wicked magic on him. Something akin to a smirk tugged at his lips. She was beautiful… but there was something else that made her attractive. Perhaps she was just biding her time until she had another chance to kill him. Try, he amended. That thought sent a jolt through his body. He wasn’t all too sure that he disliked her ability to invoke such ideas in his mind. His chest expanded with a deep breath and golden aura sprung from beneath his feet, swirling up and around his muscle bound body until it flashed passed his head, leaving the flame of his hair a shocking blonde and his eyes a rich emerald hue. The power that he had craved for so long was finally his. Vegita clenched his gloved fist, staring at it questioningly. In a few more weeks he would open the doors of the Saiya Temple and finally show Vegita-sei what he had become.
The Legendary…
His mind trekked on to another topic. He would leave, yes, and take the woman with him… but she would not be accepted. He sighed, clenching and unclenching his golden power laced fist. The Royal Council would not accept her as a fit Queen and she would not accept a place as his concubine. Even after he killed his father and ascended as Vegita-ou he knew that the council would be far from ready to allow an alien Queen. It went against every code of Saiya-jin purity they had. They would see her as an evil pollutant to the Saiya-jin race, the strongest race in the universe. Perhaps they would grow accustomed to it in time. Once the initial shock gave way and they were able to see that she wasn’t a helpless alien woman. Helpless. There was no doubt in his mind that some fool would try to get rid of her, seeing her as his weakness. His eyes narrowed and the lightning around him jumped faster. The thought of someone doing her any harm was igniting a searing fury inside him. He would let no one touch her and if anyone was so lucky to get past him, he grinned… that person would be on an express flight to Hell compliments of the new Saiya-jin no Ou.
“Alright then,” he mumbled to himself. “Time to train.” Vegita’s image flickered briefly before vanished into a whirl of golden wind.
Bulma sat on the floor next to her futon carefully sewing the last hem on her dress… her second dress.
“Damn that Vegita!” she snapped only half-seriously and smirked. “He’ll never miss the bed sheet I used,” she said with a giggle. Once she had finished tying it off, she stood and stripped to her bra and panties. “Finally I won’t feel so masculine. Those boxers were starting to get on my nerves.”
“Is there something wrong with my clothes, woman?” said a rather amused Vegita from the doorway. Bulma gasped and groped for her new dress on the floor, but looked down to see it missing. A feral chuckle from Vegita made her lift her head to see him holding the precious blue garment. The combination of him holding her dress above his head and away from her, the look he was giving her, and his eyes roaming up and down her exposed frame made her blush scarlet and cross her arms over her chest. “Surely you aren’t suggesting that my clothes aren’t good enough for you…” he teased as he stepped closer to her. Bulma stepped back and bumped into the edge of her futon, glancing behind her momentarily.
Turning back around, she glared at him with a mixture of nervousness and anger. She reached out towards the navy fabric only to have him jerk it out of her reach. “Vegita, give me back my dress,” she snapped. His lips curled back in a slow grin.
“Now you’re demanding me to follow your orders. My, my… you really are being an insolent whore aren’t you?” Vegita watched her face turn livid.
“Nani! A whore?! Just who the hell are you calling a whore you stuck up—”
A white glove covered her mouth as she mumbled the rest of her insult into a fabric filter. Vegita chuckled as he twisted her around in front of him, clutching her soft body to his muscled mass. “You,” he began as he pulled of one white glove and dropped it uncaring to the floor. “You are the frailest creature I have ever had the displeasure of meeting.” The words were said softly and with a sort of subdued kindness that made Bulma hold back the colorful insult in her head. His olive toned fingers were trailing lightly along her collar bone. “Still ashamed of your body, woman?” Vegita whispered before slipping his tongue out to glide along the rim of her ear.
Bulma shivered inside as she took on this new situation. She shouldn’t be nervous… after all he said that he wouldn’t let any harm come to her. So she shouldn’t be nervous… nope, not at all. Her body still shook as she tried to convince herself that she was in no danger.
Vegita chuckled as he watched her shake in anxiety. He shifted his weight so that she leaned back against him. “Hold on,” he murmured.
“Huh?” Bulma asked before he lifted them both into the air. “Waah!”
“Calm down, woman. I’m not going to drop you,” he said with a slow smirk, “…yet.” She only whimpered as he flew ahead through to hall and towards the outer boundaries.
“Vegita!” she gasped, “the gravity!” Vegita responded by flaring his aura, albeit slowly as to not fry his woman. He smirked… he’d never hear the end of it if he gave her any degree of burn. Though, he reminded himself, she seemed good enough at burning herself, glancing at the slightly rougher spot of skin on her calf. The Saiya-jin no Ouji shifted so that Bulma was horizontal and his arms looped under her bent knees and across her back. Bulma felt a building pressure, almost like being deep under water as the golden light surrounded her. It was a soothing warm sensation that set all of her nerves off, as if she’d just licked a battery. She wrapped her arms tighter around the prince’s neck, feeling the power drain to his feet. That was the only warning she had before the two of them were shot forward towards the vast white nothing that Vegita trained in everyday. Bulma opened her mouth to let loose the shrillest scream she could muster but her throat tightened like a vice, leaving her mouth gaping open. After he had flown a good distance, the muscles in her throat relaxed enough for her to speak again.
“Is there some reason you decided to bring me all the way out here in my underwear?” Bulma’s voice snapped.
“Are you questioning me?” Vegita slowly smirked.
“Yes! Yes I am!” she admitted blatantly, not really caring.
Vegita laughed. “You will see woman.”
Suddenly, Bulma wondered something. “Do you even know my name?” She felt him tense slightly and had to control her grin.
“It doesn’t matter. I will call you whatever I deem fit.”
“Ah ha! You don’t do you?” she said, waggling a finger.
Vegita growled and squeezed her tighter to his chest, startling Bulma. What? Had she really made him that mad? The woman shrank against him, keeping silent. They flew on silently for a long while before he spoke again.
“Briefs,” he said quietly. In truth he had known of her before she had come into the Temple. His father had spoken of her talents during councils, but he never really paid much attention to what his father was saying. Actually, Vegita surprised that he was able to recall that name.
Bulma felt something warm in her chest, though she couldn’t quite figure out why. It did give her a faint sense of satisfaction to hear him say it…
“Bulma Briefs,” she completed for him. He merely grunted in response, as if he had accomplished something. Bulma smiled a bit, now she felt relaxed. It was when Vegita tensed up that her fear began to resurface. The night of their coupling he had promised her that she would never be harmed; that she was his… so why was she still afraid of him? Her mind floated back to when she worked with Bardock in the labs and the respect that had been drilled into all the alien slaves. If any Saiya-jin walked passed you, you bowed and waited for them to move on before rising. It was simple: bow and live, or stand and die. Some people would stand, thinking that they would rather go down fighting than live on their knees… but a slave’s death at the hand of a Saiya-jin wasn’t a nice quick blast through the heart or a simple break of the neck. It was painful… painful beyond words, either torture or rape. She changed her train of thought to something a bit less gory. It wasn’t like that with all of the Saiya-jins though. Like Bardock, for example, when she was working alone with him she never bowed or spoke to him with any special respect, but when another Saiya-jin was present with him she gave him total respect. It was just a learned relationship that she had with him, and he understood. Her mind flicked back to her slave ring. Gods… she hadn’t worn it in nearly three months. It was quite satisfying to be rid of the heavy piece of metal. Vegita hadn’t noticed the difference; at least she didn’t think so. Soon, though, she would be wearing it again. Vegita-ouji wanted to leave in a few more weeks. She sighed, shivering slightly. To her surprise, Vegita sensed it and turned to look at her.
“Are you cold?” he asked, revealing no emotion.
“No,” she said. He nodded and began to slow his flight. He white booted feet touched the ground softly and Bulma waited to be set down, but instead of letting her swing down he started walking.
“Where are we going?” she wondered. Vegita didn’t answer. Bulma frowned. “Hey, where are you going? It all looks the same to me,” she said while pointing around them at the whiteness in all directions.
“I want to show you something,” he said steadily, seemingly unfazed by her tone. Bulma watched his face carefully. There was absolutely nothing out there to see. He was acting different… a good different. After walking a few more meters, he let her swing down and stand on her own, but no further than an arm’s length away.
“Stay close. This gravity is more than you could stand.” Bulma nodded, completely agreeing with him.
“So, what is it that you wanted to show me?” Her slightly bruised arms wrapped around her chest, and her legs crossed self-consciously. Vegita snorted and reached out to rip off her bra, ignoring her gasp and look of sheer outrage.
“VEGITA!?” she screeched, covering up.
“That,” he said pointing at her arms, “is unnecessary.” Bulma, now scarlet red, looked down at her chest.
“What the hell are you talking about?!” she snapped, still appalled.
Spiky black hair swished as he shook his head and unfolded her arms from her body. “Don’t do that. It’s not necessary. Shame is for the weak.”
“I-Its not shame…” she said meekly, turning away from him.
“Oh? It’s not, eh? Then what would you call it?” he asked, while smirking at her flushed face. He had to admit that it was rather attractive.
“Modesty. On Chikyuu—” she began, but stopped before she got herself slapped. But a quick glance at the Ouji said that he was still listening intently.
“Go on,” he said. Chikyuu…. So she was Chikyuu-jin.
“On my planet, a man and a woman came together on a special night after a ceremony that declared them lawfully together as…” she looked for a word that would make sense to him…
“Mates?” he finished. Bulma’s blue hair bobbed as she nodded. Vegita took a breath. “So that’s what it’s about… you think that what we did was lawfully wrong?”
“No, not lawfully wrong. It’s just that…” Bulma stopped. She really didn’t want to get into this with him; she already knew he would get angry. It was like feeding the fire when you were already too hot.
Vegita frowned as he watched her fidget. “What then?” Impatience was crowding him.
“Nothing…” she said, stepping away but then realized that she was stuck in a small area around him. Feeling cornered, she twitched and shifted her arms over her chest. Damn that Vegita… he ripped her only bra.
“What is it woman?” he growled, taking a menacing step toward her, which to his amusement she avoided by walking around to his right. Clever, he mused.
Bulma risked a glance at his face and immediately regretted it. He was mad. She knew Vegita would get like this and then if she told him why she was uncomfortable around him he was bound to get even more pissed.
“You said that it was a forbidden union, but that I was to stay with you anyway,” she said. Vegita growled and turned slightly as if he was disgusted, but Bulma was far from finished; Vegita said he wanted to hear what she had to say, so here it was. “I’m not stupid, Vegita. As much as it may shock you to know it, I do understand some politics of the Royal Monarchy…. enough to know that I will not be anything but your pet in the eyes Vegita-sei.” Bulma looked down at her feet and then back up at him, her eyes as clear as crystal water. Her eyes met Vegita’s dark ones, and she saw the possessive glare in them. Here it came…
“You will stay in the palace as my concubine.”
Bulma felt her heart sink, all of her dignity and self-respect shredded. “No…” she began, tears flooding her eyes, but not one was shed. All she could see was the dark pit ahead and her feet beginning to sink.
“You will! After I kill my father I will announce to the state that you are to be my queen,” he stepped forward to get her attention but she was too deep in her own self pity to notice. “Woman!” he grasped her shoulders gently. “Bulma.”
Bulma’s eyes slowly looked up into his as she focused on what he was saying. He said her name.
“You will be my queen, the Saiya-jin no Ouhi, and…” his hand landed on her flat abdomen, “the mother of my heir.” Bulma felt the blood drain from her face and the white room tilt. No… it wasn’t possible! What was she saying? Of course it was possible, but no! She couldn’t have a baby… she couldn’t be a mother! She was too young. Her shock dissolved into a fit of sobs, the previous dam she had created broke in an instant.
Vegita stood, completely confused. She should be honored to be with his brat! He opened his mouth to yell, when she spoke softly.
“I’m pregnant…” she said as if it had just dawned on her. “I’m going to get fat.”

* * * * *

Chapter Nine: Vegita-sei’s New King

Bardock woke suddenly, his every muscle tense as he gathered ki in his palm instinctively. “What is it?” he rasped to the figure standing in the doorway. Despite the lack of light, he knew it was his son Kakarot and let the energy disperse.
“Vegita-ouji has exited the temple early…”
he cried, standing abruptly to search for clothes to cover his nakedness.
“There is more you should know,” Kakarot began as he and his half naked father walked briskly down the hall and towards the door. “Bulma is with him.” Bardock halted in his tracks and turned an unreadable set of eyes on his son.
“You are certain?”
Kakarot nodded. “Absolutely.”
“Gods, what has that girl gotten herself into?” Bardock mumbled to himself while stepping outside into the chilly night air. Vegita wasn’t due to exit until right after dawn. He was hours early… what did it mean? Vegita-sei’s dark night sky enveloped the two Saiya-jin warriors as they lifted into the air and shot towards the Saiya Temple. All day he had spent looking for his blue-haired assistant and now he finds out that the little minx has been lounging in the Temple with a hotheaded prince of Vegita-sei. Feh, I’m surprised she’s still alive with that tongue of hers. Ouji Vegita isn’t one to let insolence slide.
Vegita stood in the pale light of the night sky, watching with failing interest the pathetic audience still sputtering in awe before the Temple. They were scared, he knew, and wisely so. Waves of them stood below the platform and he appeared as only a small fish in an oh-so-huge ocean. A fish with golden scales and a raging power level. A smirk tugged at his lips. He was the most powerful force they had felt in… well, in forever most likely. And, he thought amusedly, they were about to see him in action as soon as his father showed himself. Vegita-ouji snorted. The old man was probably being woken at this very moment, in a daze at why his son had arrived early. Well, wouldn’t he get a surprise when he came.
A guard approached him warily, eyeing Bulma as if he wasn’t sure the prince wanted her present. “Vegita-ouji, you’re father has been told of your exit, and will be here shortly.” It was obvious that the warrior was twitching with fear. Vegita was sure the power level the guard was picking up was terrifying the man to no end. Pity he wasn’t even exerting himself.
“That is good. I will wait for him here.”
“Hai, ouji-sama.” The guard nodded mostly to himself it seemed, and left.
Bulma looked around the temple grounds at the group of Saiya-jin that had decided to stay by the Saiya Temple all night long to wait for their prince. It was comforting in a way to see that some of the population cared about the future heir to the throne. Nervously, she twisted the ring on her finger, letting it slip to her fingertips. She grimly smiled to herself. This whole situation had been at the fault of this damn ring. What would the king say when he saw Vegita? More so, what would he say when he saw her and felt the small cargo she carried? Absently, she trailed a hand over her abdomen. There wasn’t a significant growth yet, but she could feel a difference in her body. Her sapphire eyes gazed out into the horizon where a few warriors were arriving to see Vegita-sei’s heir. Vegita had told her that most Saiya-jin warriors would come to see him and his new power. He was right. The sky was thick with small dark dots of Saiya-jins, quite the opposite of the brilliant display of twinkling stars on the blue-black night sky. It was nice to see the stars, and the sky for that matter after such a long stay without them. Finally, she was out of the cramped space and jagged confinements of the Temple interior. Not that the temple wasn’t fit for royalty … since that’s exactly what it was for. She had thought of this moment every day whilst being in the temple, but now that it was here the only thing she could think about was getting it over with. Beside her, Vegita shifted slightly. She had become finely tuned to him lately. She wasn’t sure if it was because they had been living together for nearly a year, or because of the child. Either way it made living around him much easier.
“I will take the throne today,” he said nonchalantly, keeping a respectable yet aloof distance from her. “I will kill my father.”
Bulma felt her jaw slacken, but before a word could be uttered Vegita had moved away from her and towards a group of Saiya-jin approaching at high speed. One was the King of Vegita-sei himself, easily noted by his scarlet cape and escort of Elites. She watched as Vegita slowly lifted himself up to the level where his father was approaching. Bulma watched as the two exchanged brief words and she could have sworn she saw the King lighten to a paler shade before scoffing at Vegita. To her surprise, Vegita did not burst into a fit of rage, but rather smiled a self-knowing smile. In all honesty, that smile was worse than his usual anger. The King now knew that Vegita was serious and the space between them seemed to grow slightly. In less than the time it took her to blink, Vegita had tensed his entire body, growling in concentration as the power in his mind began to manifest into something much, much more physical. A light bright enough to compare to that of the sun began to swirl around Vegita’s body, and with each second that passed it grew stronger and more terrifying. The King’s jaw dropped in awe at the power his son, his own flesh and blood, now radiated.
“Dear sweet goddess, can you feel it?” a nearby guard said to no one in particular. “My scouter is reading a level off the scale!”
“He’s done it! Vegita-ouji has reached the Legendary!” Shouts erupted all over the crowd, and many began to chant his name, anticipating what he was about to do. Did they all want Vegita to take the throne? Did the fact that he planned on killing his father mean anything to them? Suddenly, her blue eyes swept past a familiar face.
No one noticed the small woman who slipped down the platform stairs and into the crowd. If she could just get in the back of the crowd, then she would be able to get the big Saiya-jin’s attention. That is, Bulma thought sourly, if she could get through the throngs and throngs of people on the floor level. It was hard enough being a small slave trying to get past hundreds of the thick, bulging bodies of warriors, but the fact that many of the people she was squeezing past were that of higher ranking soldiers made her a bit queasy. If it weren’t for the miraculous spectacle Vegita was creating simply by powering up, then every Saiya-jin wouldn’t be so conveniently distracted. Each dark haired warrior stood with their mouths slightly agape, and their heads tilted up and facing the pair of Vegitas in the sky.
Bulma could see the end of the mob, but no Bardock… she slowed slightly, looking around to see if he was still nearby… when something snatched onto her arm and squeezed almost painfully hard.
“Ahh! Let go of me, you—” A set of slate black eyes met her burning blue ones. “Kakarot!” she said almost in relief.
“My father is looking for you on the east side,” Kakarot said, a small smile turning his lips upward. “You know,” he began, “we’ve been looking for you all day.”
Bulma had to pass up the opportunity to tell him that it had been longer than a day to her… much, much longer.
“He’s going to chew your head off over this one, girl.” Kakarot chuckled at the face Bulma made.
“I know, I know. He hasn’t the faintest idea of what happened, though. But once I tell him, I’m sure that he’ll understand. At least I hope so.” The two began walking towards the eastern side to look for Bardock.
The wide circle that had been around Vegita’s glowing form had now dissipated, and only the king himself stayed near his son. Whether it was honor or fear that held him was hard to tell. He had an obligation as Vegita-sei’s King and as Vegita’s father to recognize when his time as ruler had come to an end, and his heir had risen to the level of power great enough to take over. This was that time. Vegita-ou slumped slightly upon realizing that his plan had backfired… that he had doubted his son’s abilities, and now he was going to pay for it in the most primal and brutal way possible— death at the hands of his son. It was natural; this was the way of his people, but still it stung some cold part of him that he had thought dead long ago. As the Ou of Vegita-sei lifted his eyes to that of his son’s, he saw what he had feared he would. Hatred. Pure, undaunted, raging hatred. And all of it was for him. Worst of all was that he knew the source of it. Perhaps there was still time to make amends before passing on. Perhaps not. If he knew anything about his son, it was that he would never accept an apology for the death of his mother, especially one from him. If he could not seal the breach in Vegita’s mind, then he might as well push him on.
“She had a weakness, brat. I was not going to let Her infect you with it. She had to be disposed of before the situation became worse.”
Vegita froze, his entire being simply hardened into a statue, looking directly into his father’s eyes. The two of them stared at each other, the younger sending waves of hate.
“You will not speak to me of Her ever again.” Vegita-ouji’s words were all but soft in their vehemence. The King of Vegita-sei gasped wide-eyed as the black hair on his son’s head flashed a brilliant golden color. “You’re time has come, old man.”
“So let me get this straight,” said Bardock as he glared down at his small lab assistant painted in blue. “You’ve been inside the Saiya Temple with Ouji Vegita all day-”
“A year passed inside the Temple even though only a day passed outside. Well, almost a year, anyway. We left about two months early,” Bulma corrected.
“Right, a year. In any case, you have some god watching over you, girl. I don’t know of another soul who has spent that much time in such close quarters with the prince and not been killed.” Bardock’s eyes swept towards the sky where Vegita suddenly erupted in a pillar of gold flame. “Great goddess! Look at him!”
“The Legendary,” Kakarot mumbled as he watched Vegita straighten his power-laden body and slowly lift his eyes to sear his father.
“He said he was going to take the throne today,” Bulma said to the two Saiya-jin around her. “That he was going to kill his father.” They both turned around to look at her.
“He told you? The prince told you he was going to take the throne?”
Bulma turned to Bardock. “Uh, yeah.” She looked at him sideways. “I’ve been living with the guy for a year, Bardock. Of course he’s going to tell me.” Kakarot glanced at his father and then back up at Vegita.
“We’ll discuss this later,” Bardock said before settling his attention on the history in the sky. The Ouji was now shrouded in a gold aura crackling with raw energy begging to be let out. Bardock could only imagine the amount of restraint used to hold it in check. Vegita lifted one hand palm up towards the sky, focusing the majority of his energy to that point. A small burst of ki became visible and it grew until it was the size of a small child. All eyes were centered on the King at this moment. His face was steel, not an ounce of fear was present, though what he was going through in his mind was most certainly an entirely different thing. Just as quickly as Bardock had focused his eyesight on the King’s face, Vegita’s ki had swallowed him, leaving everyone blinded from the terrible brightness. A white light seared every eye watching, but even though vision was temporarily suspended, every mind was filled with the image of Vegita-sei’s King burning away into nothing more than ashes in the wind. A new King now owned the throne.
“The Royal Council has been summoned. As King I am obligated to attend.” Vegita frowned as if he wasn’t sure he liked being obligated to do anything. “Besides, I must go receive their allegiances,” Vegita said as he pulled on a sleek black training suit. He looked up at her sitting on his bed, still wearing that serene look from just waking up and wrapped only in bed sheets. Their gazes meeting for only that brief second. “I will be back in a few hours. You will stay out of trouble, out of sight. Not many people know you are here, and I intend to keep it that way.” He lifted a set of armor over his shoulders and attached a long cape that was red on one side and black on the other giving him a look of supreme authority. It was fitting considering that he was now the King of Vegita-sei.
“You look nice,” she said softly, reaching up to rub sleep from her eyes. “Very attractive.”
Vegita snorted and smirked.
“I know, woman.” Vegita slowly walked over to her, bracing himself on the bed by placing his hands in front of Bulma. He lowered his head until their eyes were level.
“You know, huh?” Bulma teased.
“I am Vegita-ou, King of Vegita-sei, of course I look good.”
Bulma laughed. “You are one arrogant son of a bitch.”
Vegita snorted again and leaned forward, pushing her flat against the bed, he captured her lips with his. “I will be back soon, woman. Stay here.”
Bulma watched him walk to the door to put his boots on and heard the great doors shut behind him. Today was going to be a long day. She sighed and began to comb out her long blue tendrils with her fingers and winced as she tugged too hard. Long day or not, it might as well begin with a bath. Bulma stood and strided towards the luxurious bathing room that was adjacent to Vegita’s sleeping quarters, leaving the soft bed sheets behind. A whistle filled the air around her. “Damn.” Bulma shook her head. “Look what I’ve been missing.” Although the size alone was enough to impress her, even more so was the ornate and meticulous detail that was carved into every piece of wood around her. Marble statues and luscious green and wild colored plant life sprang up in corners and niches. The hard labor and dedication to do such work must have been intense. Bulma trailed a hand over the carved handles on the waterspouts, admiring their beauty before turning them on to fill the tub. Flower petals had been sprinkled in and around the basin as well as on top of the counters so that the steam of the water carried the scent throughout the room. Inhaling sharply, Bulma let herself relax. The soothing sound of the water falling from the tap left her in a serene peace; it was like having a miniature waterfall in your bathroom. There was no one or nothing that could take this moment away from her. After a nice hot bath, she would dress and perhaps begin working on some small project. In quarters as nice as these there was bound to be something worthy of taking apart. Suddenly she froze. The air around her felt different, uncomfortable, alien. Her azure eyes widened. Why had the water stopped running? Bulma’s stomach dropped as a deep baritone chuckle sounded from behind her.
“What a lovely shade of blue.”
Bulma opened her mouth to scream but a sharp pain in her neck left her paralyzed and nearing unconsciousness. Still, she was able to think one word. Vegita!
Vegita stiffened in his seat at the head of the Royal Council. Beyond these idiots blabbering nonsense and shrill bickering and his splitting headache he thought he’d heard Bulma’s voice. He looked briefly to the door. It had been shut for three hours. Three hours he had been inside this room and had since then been bombarded with every “suggestion” imaginable by the Royal Council members. Gods, how he wished to leave this forsaken place. If one more of these weak, sniveling, pathetic excuse for a Saiya-jin “suggests with all due respect” that he do something for “the good of Vegita-sei” he would wave and blast them all to hell, smiling as he did so. It was ridiculous to think he was hearing Bulma’s voice, but nonetheless he could not shake the feeling that she was trying to contact him. As he reached deeper within himself, towards the bond that united them as mates, he could sense her. Vegita tensed more. She was in danger of some kind. Waves of her fear and distress echoed insanely in his mind.
“ENOUGH!” Vegita shouted as he slammed his hands down on the table, sending splinters flying through the air. Every one who had been speaking stopped and turned gaping to face the seething King of Vegita-sei.
“Until any of you can present me with a reasonable situation that requires my attention, I will be in my quarters. I suggest that you consider what topics are in dire need of Royal management before you bring them to this Council. I don’t consider the uniforms of the Fourth Regiment a worthy topic to be discussed here,” Vegita said as he glanced sharply towards the Council member who had brought that certain detail to his attention. The King of Vegita-sei pushed his chair back sharply before he vanished in a swirl of his cape out the double doors, tail lashing behind him in frustration.
One Council member fidgeted with sweaty palms. “Do you think he suspects something?” he rasped to the others.
“For our sake I hope not,” another said under his breath. The very scent in the air was tense and cackling with nervous energy.
“Fools! Don’t you realize that we are doing this for Vegita’s own good. If we let that alien slut get close to him then Vegita-sei will be doomed. It is better to do this now while they are not as attached,” the Council member seated near the opposite head spoke swiftly.
“Kaleron,” the previous voice spat accusingly, “this was your idea in the first place. You would have the whole Council dead if it benefited you! How can we be sure this isn’t some scheme of yours?” Kaleron, the very epitome of disgust among the Saiya-jin Empire, inclined his head haughtily.
To all those present it seemed that a smile fought to creep up on Kaleron’s dark face. “Now, now, that wasn’t a very nice thing to say, Celerot.” Kaleron walked toward Celerot, his junior of at least a decade, until they were face to face. “I am just trying to keep a strong King on the throne, and I can’t do that when he is fawning over an alien girl, can I? Vegita-ou is the strongest we have seen in millennia. I will not let this bitch cloud his vision.”
Celerot stepped back toward the door and left amongst his fellow peers without so much as a word. There was nothing much he could have done anyway. When a senior member pulled rank, you were just shit out of luck. He did, however, manage to send Kaleron one baleful look before disappearing down the hall. Others filed out as well, leaving only Kaleron and Baroun in the great Council Hall.
“Did everything go as planned, Baroun?” Kaleron asked.
“Yes. The girl is in our care.” A smile. “I’ve heard she has quite a mouth on her.”
Kaleron laughed, the flawless skin on his face creasing slightly. “Oh really? Well, perhaps she is just upset that we have kept her waiting. Come then; let’s not leave our pretty guest alone with Tofun any longer than possible. That fool can’t seem to keep his pants on around women of any kind.” Kaleron smiled. “I might decide to be generous and give that dirty whore to him as payment.”
“Woman?” Vegita shut the door behind him as he paced towards the bathing chamber. The Council had left him with a jaw clenching headache and more than enough negative energy to pound in a few heads. Somewhere in the back of his mind, a small version of himself snickered at that and jabbed repeatedly in the air, smiling all the way. The Saiya-jin King shook his head. This was no time to be daydreaming. He had to find his woman. The uneasiness he had felt earlier had not dissipated and he was sure that if he didn’t do something to take this edge of his earlier idea would be a reality and a few heads would roll.
“Woman?!” he called out more aggressively. Surely, she wouldn’t have ignored him. Vegita felt a strange thickness in his stomach, like someone was tying it into a tight knot, over and over. The short, dense fur on his tail stood on end and suddenly he felt like he was suffocating. Vegita stopped short as he entered the bathroom where he was sure the feeling was radiating from. Nothing was physically out of place. The countertops were bare except for the occasional bottle of oil fragrance, but still… He turned to face the tub, which was full… he stepped closer and dipped a finger in… of cold water. Vegita’s hard black eyes narrowed. He inhaled again and clenched his jaw hard to prevent himself from falling over. He could smell her… he could smell her fear. It was fading, like it had happened almost hours ago. Then, as if a blast had struck him square in the face he heard her calling to him, not aloud but a mindscream deep from within their bond. He nearly collapsed with the effort it took to keep his feet under him. Good gods, that woman was loud! She was scared, angry, and vengeful. Her emotions filtered through him with sheer will. She was sending these things to him… but why? His brows folded. Where in the hells was she? Another wave of feeling drenched him and he rocked unsteadily, one thick arm shooting out to steady himself on the ivory countertop. Vegita clenched his stomach with his free hand. Some…someone was hurting her! Unbearable and relentless pain seared his every nerve. Goddess, what was going on? The King of Vegita-sei grit his teeth and concentrated on blocking out Bulma’s link to him. As horrible the thought of being unattached to her was, he could not think rationally with her mindscreams of fury in his head. As the seal was coming to a close, he could see her bright face twisted in pain and staring out widely in horror. In horror at his separation or at the torture she was enduring, he could not tell.
No! Don’t leave me, Vegita! PLEASE!
Those impossibly blue eyes were all he could see of her now and they screamed out for help. Panic and desperation flooded his senses until his throat clenched shut in a fear that was not his own, but rather Bulma’s.
The seal clamped shut and the searing pain was gone. The terror and panic vanished. Vegita’s fist gripped the edge of the counter hard, cracking the stone, and fell forward to his knees, smacking the cold tiles with a snapping echo. Sweat and tears slid down his face. Ragged, harsh breath heaved his lungs until they burned with incredible flames. The pain and fear may have gone, but so had the surrounding warmth that had lasted in his heart for months. The soothing heat was gone. She was gone.
“Bulma.” Vegita-sei’s king knelt awkwardly on the floor, the shadow from his bowed head covered his face but not the tears the flowed freely down his cheeks and splashed loudly against the cold white tiles.
Thick, tangible, cold darkness was all that Bulma could sense. The hulking beast of a creature that had carried her into this place had gone for the moment. The memory of his touch left her nauseated. Bulma breathed in deeply, trying to rid herself of the feeling but the overbearing blackness that was the air she breathed made her cough and gag. She had screamed every curse imaginable at him, bit and scratched his impenetrable flesh until her fingers were sore and her nails were torn. The bruises on her legs and arms explained how the Saiya-jin had responded. Her shoulders trembled and she crawled along the smooth stone, feeling the wall until she met another. The small woman folded her legs and leaned into the corner, trying to get a grip on the situation she was in. The cold bit viciously at her bare skin leaving her shivering in the corner. Her body ached from the hard, uncomfortable stone floor that she had been unceremoniously thrown onto as if she were nothing more than an animal. Then again, she realized with unwanted logic, she was a slave again. She pulled her legs up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. If anything she would be able to conserve her warmth in this manner. Even though she was cold and sore, nothing hurt more than what had happened moments ago. The muscles in her throat tightened and the sobs threatened to return.
Vegita had completely severed their link. She winced at the jagged spear that shot through her heart and cringed as the first sob peeled forth from her lips. He had felt her.
She knew he felt her.
It was as if he had simply cut the cord that bound them together… their precious bond. Uncaring of the sudden loss of her presence. Hiccups echoed in the black air around her, bouncing off of walls that she knew not of. No one knew where she was. Not even Bardock knew that she had been staying in the king’s quarters. Vegita hadn’t let her tell anyone. She was alone. Completely alone. The sobs had ceased, yet the tears continued to flow as she sat bundled up in the corner.
She twitched and gasped almost silently as voices could be heard nearby. She fidgeted as she realized that in her hasty attempt to find a corner in the darkness, she had lost the direction of the door. Bulma held her breath as the door swung wide open to her right letting in rays of light that slightly blinded her. She remembered when Vegita had erupted into the Super Saiya-jin only days before. The memory left her sick. Through her blurred vision, be it from the light or tears she wasn’t sure, two shadows passed under the doorway to stand a few paces from her crumpled form.
“How is our guest doing? Peachy, I hope.” Bulma did not recognize the voice, but it sounded amused and that left her nearly trembling with rage. Or fear. Her vision cleared and Bulma saw the one who had spoke. He was a Saiya-jin, a Council member by the black and yellow serpent crest on his armor. Contrary to most in the panel, this Saiya-jin had pursued training as well. The muscling that thickly covered his frame made her shrink back slightly. He was taller than Vegita, but then again so was most every Saiya-jin in the Empire, but he also had a well-balanced physique.
Naked, and quite knowing of the fact, Bulma shifted so that he legs folded over in a concealing manner. Her bright ocean-colored eyes glared defiantly and narrowed as he swept his black eyes over her bare flesh.
“I hear that you are unsatisfied with the accommodations.” A toothy grin shot onto his tanned face. “I apologize, but this is the standard for the King’s pets. I do hope that you get accustomed to it.”
“You dirty bastard! How dare you speak to me that way! When Vegita-ou finds out what you’ve done he will kill you painfully. You will die with no honor.” Bulma hissed, covering her chest self-consciously.
The brawny Council member swiftly dropped the grin and frowned angrily at her. A strong hand whipped across her face, sending her skidding over the floor.
“Shut your mouth, you disgusting whore!” Kaleron trembled with rage, staring down his nose at the cowering slave of soft ivory flesh and flowing blue hair. She was truthfully a beautiful creature. It was now that he noticed the bruises that marred her skin and he grinned. “Did you enjoy your time spent with your captor? I am contemplating giving you to him as a gift. What do you think, Baroun?” he asked the other. A mere ‘hmf’ was given in reply.
Bulma pushed herself up on shaky arms, spitting out blood that coated her tongue. She reached up to wipe the bleeding cut on her lip. This bastard was really going to get it once Vegtia found him out.
Kaleron crouched down next to Bulma, his face now perfectly calm and betrayed none of his emotions. Gently, he reached a hand out to clasp Bulma’s chin. She flinched and lifted a hand up to grab his wrist. The tendons in her arm bulged, yet he merely sat there looking at her. Gritting her teeth she leaned her weight into it, yet still he did not waver.
“I know what the King thinks of you, girl. That is why I must do this. He will never meet his fate if he is fawning over an alien woman.” The Saiya-jin whispered softly near her face, the heat of his breath sickening to her senses. Kaleron tugged her forward until his lips met hers. Bulma cried out and pushed against him as she felt his tail wrap around her waist in the same manner that Vegita’s did. His tongue snaked out to lick the blood from her lip. “So soft. You would have made an excellent bed warmer. Too bad you have to die.” Bulma tore her chin from his hands and sneered up at him from her shadowed position on the floor.
“Vegita will never let you get away with this. I don’t care if you think you are doing is for the good of the King, he will kill you!” Desperately Bulma tried to call for Vegita but the seal was still in place, there was no way he could hear her. Oh, Vegita, she sobbed mentally.
To her surprise Kaleron made no move to strike her. He simply straightened himself and shot her a grim smile. His eyes rained pure malevolence and it shook her to the core. “I know he would make you his queen, girl,” the bitterness in his voice was palpable. “An alien slave will not serve as Vegita-sei’s Queen,” he snapped. “I will not have it!”
Shouts beyond the glowing doorway were heard above Kaleron’s rising voice. Suddenly, Kaleron and Baroun turned towards each other, both blanching to a shade so white that it seemed they became ghosts. The air thinned and became chilly, making Bulma blink at the shift in pressure. A half second later it became blisteringly hot as a searing yellow fire blazed in through the door. Like a vacuum had sucked it past the door, it reached its fiery arms within, snatching wildly at the occupants. Bulma had less than a second to realize what was happening, her mind simply froze as she watched the flames lick closer and closer to her.

I’m coming, woman…

Her mind snapped back into awareness and she threw herself to the side just in time. The flames skimmed over her shoulder and collided with the wall. Slowly, Bulma lifted her head and she saw a golden haired, emerald-eyed Vegtia standing in the doorway, that implacable frown plastered to his face, every muscle in his body tensed and ready to attack. His eyes found hers and she recognized the adoring passion he had for her, and then it abruptly changed to rage. Fury greater than any should ever hold, fury towards those who had done this to his mate.
Bulma let her eyes drift to Kaleron and Baroun, both of whom were standing off to the side of the door, still between her and Vegita. Their respectable, tidy Council garments were now charred as well as random marks along their skin. Both warriors held their jaws clenched tight and their eyes wide against their will. It was well known that Vegita-ou was the strongest alive. What fool would dare to challenge him or harm those close to him?
His eyes zeroed in on Kaleron and he summoned the power that flowed through his every vein.
“You took what was mine. How dare you touch what belongs to the King of Vegita-sei?!” Vegita’s voice boomed with superior authority and the power that danced around his body only added to his threatening appearance.
“S–she will only drag you down, wagakimi. Please, u–understand that we are only trying to help you. Th–this girl,” Kaleron pointed at Bulma, still sitting bare against the smoldering room, “clouds your vision as King.”
Vegita calmly lifted a hand, palm out towards Kaleron. His golden tail free of his waist and completely at ease swayed out behind him. “You know nothing of what you speak of. This woman is nothing but that: a woman.” Vegita’s eyes shifted to something much more dangerous and his voice became a barbed lash. The physical manifestation of his power increased its speed and intensity around his body, like a broken current of electricity. “However,” Vegita said, energy beginning to crackle around his hand impatiently. “I will not stand the open threat you have against my woman, my mate.”
Kaleron’s jaw slackened and he slowly turned his head to look dumbfounded at Bulma.
“Her, or my unborn son,” Vegita finished.
Both Kaleron, Baroun, and the recently gathered audience outside the door gasped, all eyes turned to the small, battered, blue-haired woman seated on the floor. Bulma felt her cheeks heat at the attention.
“The Royal Heir cannot be a hybrid!” Kaleron cried, lunging suddenly at Bulma with a small ki blast readily growing in his palm.
Bulma threw her arms up defensively, ready to block the blow. She saw Vegita throw a blast straight at Kaleron who was right in front of her. As she watched her death fall out before her in the slowest motion possible, a huge body slammed into hers, carrying her meters away from the blast site and from Kaleron. She gulped for the air that had been thrust from her lungs. Thick, strong arms wrapped around her body and she felt the day’s fatigue rapidly grab hold of her. Her shoulder burned with recognition and she fought the urge to touch the wound.
“Are you alright?” a familiar voice asked. Bulma slowly looked up into the scarred face of Bardock. He stole a glance at the scarlet flesh of her arm and the seeping blood that had already begun its sticky clotting process. For a split second his eyes swept over her bare body.
“I-I’m… fine,” she managed between gulps of wanted air. Then she blushed, suddenly more aware of her nakedness than ever before. “Uh, I need to get some clothes on.”
Bardock smiled gently, as a father would smile down at his daughter, and chuckled. “I think someone would like to see you.” He stepped backward, turning so that Vegita could see her intact and still breathing. Vegita met her eyes briefly before looking up at Bardock with mixed emotions.
“Wagakimi, I think this is yours.”
Vegita nodded. “Your loyalty will not go overlooked. Your house will be honored, Bardock.”
Bulma watched her old friend and overlord nod, pride sparkling in his eyes. Vaguely, she heard Vegita call her name. Things around her began to darken, the edges of her vision turning black until all she saw was Vegita’s worried face staring down into hers, and even then he was slowly fading into nothingness.
“Bulma?” Vegita said, shaking her gently. The look on his face one of severe apprehension. Had they harmed her? Had they poisoned her? His black eyes found the bloody mess of burned flesh on her shoulder. Other bruises marred her butter cream skin and he thought he noticed a trickle of blood near her lip. Gods, what had they done to her?
“She’s passed out, Ou-sama. I’m sure she’ll come to in a few hours,” Bardock said. ” Her pulse is still strong,” the older warrior said while resting two fingers on her jugular. Vegita did not reply. Instead he gathered Bulma’s limp body in his arms and walked towards the door. Bardock soon followed, making sure to stay a few paces back. One did not leave the King without being dismissed.
Those who caught a glimpse of the new Saiya-jin king, burning brightly with the light of the Legendary, and his nude bundle stopped dead in their tracks in sheer shock. As he swept down the hallways, a trail of blue wisps flowed freely over his arm.
The King had already taken a bride?
Who was this strange blue-haired goddess? For sure she was a divine creature. What else had hair the color of the deep blue sea and eyes that contested only with the sky? Where had she come from?
In the King’s Royal chambers, a small glow dimly let light exist in the corner far from the bed. Below the silky sheets an inert form laid, a rounded chest steadily rising and falling with the familiar pattern of slow breath. An occupied chair sat alone in a dark corner nearly facing the doors. A flame of hair darker than the blackness of the room would alarm anyone who walked through the doors who was sitting in that chair. One of the doors was pushed inward and a tall, respected figure slid inside, taking care to shut the door quietly.
“Vegita-ou,” Bardock whispered, “the doctors said that the burn was deep but that her time spent in the regen tank will heal the tissue and it will mend well. They also wanted me to tell you all is well and healthy: she will have a son in seven months.”
Vegita stood from his seat and dismissed the warrior.
“Sire,” Bardock pressed a fist to his chest before turning to leave.
Vegita walked to the bed that his mate slept upon, still completely unconscious from the incident yesterday, and leaned into it so that he was nearly face to face with Bulma.
“Woman, I—” he began, but stopped himself, frowning deeply.
“I know,” she whispered. “I know, Vegita.”
He became rigid and leaned down closer. “You’ve been awake all this time?” he asked, avoiding the subject.
“No,” she said. “I wanted to get some sleep. I didn’t think I’d sleep all day.” Then she smiled knowingly. “Besides, what’s one day?”

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