Disclaimer: DBZ is not mine, so these characters are not mine.
A loud explosion shook the house to its foundations, causing the dust from the ceiling to come filtering down in a snowy haze. Bulma's head jerked from the floor and she looked around her in confusion. "What the hell?" she swore to herself. "Vegeta, what was that?" she asked to an empty room.
She got up from the floor and scored it with her eyes, looking for Vegeta to be lurking in some dark corner. But, he was no where to be seen. "Vegeta?" she called.
Bulma walked out of the room, through the kitchen, across her lab and out the door. She stared in shock for a moment at the broken gravity machine. And then she was angry. That damned Saiyan had just broken her creation. How the hell? Where was that ass? "Vegeta, you better get your Saiyan ass here right now before I find you and kill you myself!" she said seething.
She heard chuckling from inside the wreckage. Vegeta's hand shot up and then he pulled his whole body out of the twisted metal. "I'd like to see you kill me, Woman." he said laughing at her. He stood uncertainly on his feet.
"Look at what you did to my machine! You destroyed it!" she screamed at him.
"I told you I would, didn't I? I told you you'd have to fix it in a weeks time, didn't I?" he mocked her.
She crossed her arms and glared daggers at him.
He smirked and took a step towards her. He swayed a bit before he right himself. Bulma saw this and immediately her anger disappeared. She looked him over with a critical eye. He had deep gashes on his side and arms, and he had a wound somewhere on his head that was bleeding, though she couldn't tell with all the dirt. His clothes were torn into shreds, and his skin was extremely pale.
"O, Kami! Vegeta, you're hurt!" she said, rushing to her side.
He brushed her off. "I don't need your help, Woman. I can take care of myself." He started to walk to the house, but collapsed to the floor.
"Vegeta!" Bulma said frantically. She pulled the injured Saiyan onto her lap.
He looked up at her through pain filled eyes. "I don't need your help, Woman! Leave me alone!" he said strongly, though weaker than he probably would have like she suspected.
"My ass! You can't even get yourself to the house." Bulma pulled him up from the floor as best as she could. For a small guy he certainly weighed a whole hell of a lot. "If you plan on getting inside the house, Vegetable Head, you need to help me."
Vegeta hmphed and stood on his feet. He pushed her away and tried again to step to the house, but would have fallen again if Bulma hadn't lent a helping hand. Bulma guided him into the house and onto his bed. He flopped onto the bed and lay there, looking up at the ceiling for a few minutes. Bulma stepped out of the room and walked through the house gathering bandages and ointment from the supplies she'd brought with her. She walked back into the room to find Vegeta had stripped himself of his shredded shirt and now lay on his side looking at the wall in his training pants. She leaned on the bed and touched him lightly on the shoulder.
He jumped at her touch and growled, "What do you want now, Woman?"
She looked back at him innocently. "Your wounds need to be cleaned."
"I can do it myself." he said irritated. He grabbed at the bandages, but she pulled them out of his reach.
"No, you can't. Just let me do this for you, okay? Nobody's gonna know except you and me." she said, not believing what was coming out of her mouth. When did she become compassionate, especially to this asshole who messed up her life?
He stared at her suspiciously. "Why?"
"To show you what love is."
Vegeta flinched at the word love, and Bulma almost did too. Now she knew she was out of her mind. She'd given up on teaching this Saiyan how to love. He'd proven he'd never learn, and there'd be no point anyway: her consolation was gone.
She felt Vegeta's eyes on her and she averted her own, grabbing a cloth and soaking it with water. She applied it to one of his gashes, and she heard him hiss sharply. She looked up at him. "I'm sorry. Did that hurt?" she said softly.
"No." he said shortly, averting his eyes now.
Bulma washed his wounds, applied the ointment, and wrapped them with bandages in total silence, in a totally uncomfortable silence. Her words still hung in the air. What was going on? She gathered together what was left and put them away silently in her lab. She leaned upon her table with her palms pressed on the tabletop. She reviewed her life over the past couple weeks.
She'd come to Matrigad to find that her life had been destroyed while she lay asleep for five months on the way to a mission. She was now helping the one man who could enact her revenge on the bastard who had destroyed her planet and hope, and the man who had started her torturous life in the first place. She had totally shut herself off from everyone-- not that there as a great deal of people she could shut herself off from. Somewhere in between everything she had developed some feeling for the Saiyan that lay in pain in the bedroom, the Saiyan who had her parents killed and who took over her planet for his own selfish gains. Where and when did she develop these feelings? And why?
How could she possibly fall for that bastard? Yeah, he looked good, no doubt about that and she certainly wouldn't deny it; but he was such an arrogant bastard. But she had a feeling that his ego and character made him even more attractive. He seemed to be . . . untouchable. She had a feeling that underneath the front he put up in front of her there was a real person.
Bulma shook herself and her feelings. She needed to control herself. She was stronger than that. She walked back to the room with a renewed step. Vegeta lay on his side again, his eyes closed. Bulma turned out the candlelight's that she had set up when she had first dragged him into the room. The room now lay totally dark except for the moonlight that filtered in through a window. Bulma sighed and lay down on the cold stone floor. She lay for a while letting the cold seep into her bones.
"Woman, what the hell is wrong with you? Your teeth are making that annoying clicking sound." she hared him say, his back still turned to her.
"I guess you wouldn't know what it feels like to sleep on a cold stone floor." she said, finally pulling her covers over her body.
"No, I wouldn't." he said getting up from the bed. He swayed uncertainly again,
Bulma got up from the floor as soon as his feet touched the ground. "What do you think you're doing?" she said pushing him back down on the bed.
"Getting you up from the floor. I can't stand your chattering." he said, an unusual smile gracing his face. He grabbed at her wrists and pulled her down onto the bed with him, on top of him.
Bulma gaped in surprise, but didn't protest when she felt his warm body make contact with her skin. She sighed slightly and relaxed unconsciously, her eyes closed and her cheek pressed against his chest.
"Woman, do you plan on sleeping like this?" he said after a few moments, his breathing a little uneven.
Bulma pulled herself off of him a little, her hands positioned on both sides of his shoulders. Her feet were still on the floor. She stood hovering a few inches above him. "Do you object?" she whispered to him, her tone challenging him.
"I'd rather not sleep with half of my body off the bed." he breathed against her. His eyes seemed to stare at her very core, making her shake. Her control was quickly ebbing away.
She pushed herself off of him. He swung his legs onto the bed and then stared at her again. She stared uncertainly at him, not knowing what to do. Was he playing with her, or did her really expect her to sleep in the same bed with him?
He seemed to catch her inner war because he said in an irritated voice, "Woman, I can no longer sleep with your teeth chattering a mile a minute every night. Now hurry up before I resort to killing you instead."
Bulma quieting got in next to him and pulled the covers over herself. She heard him grunt and then turn away from her. She lay for a while, completely aware of his presence next to her. The heat from his body gave off a comforting warmth, but she couldn't sleep. Her mind was in turmoil, trying to grasp her feelings and if he could possibly ever feel the same way. She knew he was aware of her too.
Bulma finally slept, questions still circling her head.
Bulma woke to an unusual sensation: something was wrapped around her waist and draped across her. She opened her eyes and found herself looking at the sleeping face of Vegeta. His arm was on top of her body, almost like he was holding her, and his tail was wrapped around her waist protectively. Holding her? No, no way.
He was still asleep so she took the time to study his face. His face was completely neutral, no emotion at all. He had a strong bone structure and his skin was a tanned deeply from the continual workouts in the sun. She freed one hand that had been pressed to his chest when he had `embraced' her last night, and lightly traced his jawline with her fingertips. His face was smooth and warm. She gently placed a hand on his cheek, but he visibly flinched and frowned. She pulled away quickly, not wanting to anger him as soon as he woke up. Most mornings he'd be gone already. This morning was a rare occasion where she'd still find him in bed. He continued to frown, but didn't wake.
Bulma sighed raggedly and then moved to get out of bed . . . but he wouldn't let go! The further she tried to move, the tighter he wrapped his tail around her. She was really in a predicament now. What would he do when he woke and found he had slept the way he did, completely unaware that he'd been holding her the night through? She didn't really want to know; she might be sleeping on the cold stone floor again.
Bulma's hands went to his tail and she gently began to tug on it. The fur was extremely soft to the touch, but it wouldn't budge from where it was. She sighed again and gently started to stroke his tail. A deep rumbling started at the base of his chest, causing her to look up and see another unusual smile on his face. Two within six or so hours; she was on a roll. His grasp lightened for a moment, so she tried to maneuver herself away from him, but he reached out to her and pulled her closer to him, his head nestled at the base of her neck. She could feel his hot breath on her sensitive skin, tickling her. She laughed softly at the sensation, and the predicament. It didn't look like she'd be getting out anytime soon of her own accord. And who cared what he thought because it was all his fault anyway; she tried to save his pride.
Bulma pulled her crushed arms from under him and encircled him in an embrace. One hand went down to the base of his tail where she started to softly stroke the fur there. The rumbling started again, and she stopped for a moment to listen to it. It sounded like a cat purring. "Are you purring, Veggie-chan?" she whispered softly.
He grunted in response.
"Are you awake?" she asked, panic rising in her voice.
"If I wasn't before, I am now." he said groggily.
"Would you mind getting off of me?" she said almost like it was a request.
His eyes shot open and jerked himself away from her. "What the hell?" he practically yelled. "What are you doing?"
"What am I doing?" Bulma said sitting up in the bed. "What were you doing? I wasn't the one who wrapped a tail around you. If you hadn't notice, Vegetable Head, I don't have a tail." Bulma got up from the bed angrily.
"I wouldn't have done that." he said defensively.
"Oh, yeah? Well then how come when I woke up your tail was wrapped around my waist and your arm was draped across my body, hmm? And why, when I tried to get out of it to save your pride, you only tightened your grasp?" she said heatedly.
Vegeta sat there speechless.
"Nothing to say, finally?" she spat at him. "Not everything it my fault, Vegeta. I tried-- I really did-- but you just wouldn't let go. So don't go blaming me for your mistakes." Bulma turned on her heel and stomped out of the room, leaving Vegeta just gaping after her.
They avoided each other afterward as best as they could. Bulma took to sleeping in the lab and working day and night to stay away from the cranky Saiyan, and Vegeta trained at all hours of the day, sometimes not coming back until the following morning. Bulma could feel her nerves running ragged from all this running away from each other. Her work was beginning to deteriorated, as was her mental health.
She was surprised one morning when little Mae ran in from the village. "Queen Bulma!" she yelled at the top of her lungs. The people had taken to calling her Queen since she was also from another planet-- and she suspected because Vegeta hadn't killed her. Mae was heaving from running so fast.
"Mae, calm down. What is it?" she asked her.
"A ship; it came from-" Mae pointed upward.
Mae nodded eagerly. "Big ship." she said, motioning with her hands.
"Take me to it." Bulma said, standing to her feet.
Mae shook her head. "No. Evil men are on the ship and they destroyed the village closest to the ship."
"How do you know?"
"Someone came and told us. Everyone is running for their lives. We need King Vegeta." Mae said.
"I don't know where Vegeta is, Mae."
Mae's face dropped for a moment. Then her face became stern. "I need to find him." she said, steel in her voice.
"Hold on." Bulma walked outside of the house and looked around her for any sign of the Saiyan Prince. She found none. "Vegeta!" she called at the top of her lungs. "Vegeta! You're needed! Get your sorry butt here right now!"
"Woman, I am sorry for nothing." he said behind her.
She spun around. "Took you long enough." she said as coolly as she could.
"What is it you want?" he said bored.
Bulma felt Mae run out from the house and stand behind her, grabbing at Bulma's legs. She peered out form behind Bulma's legs at Vegeta, but quickly hid again when Vegeta glared at her.
"What is the brat doing here?" he snarled.
"She's not a brat, Vegetable Head. And she is the reason why I called you." Bulma snapped back.
Vegeta rolled his eyes. "What's wrong? Her kitty got stuck in a tree?" he mocked.
Bulma felt her blood boiling. She was about to say something nasty but Mae jumped out in front of her. "You're mean!" she screamed at the top of her lungs. "I hate you!" Mae ran away from the toward the village.
Bulma threw her hands up in the air. "Do you always have to be such an ass?" She ran after Mae, but Mae was gone. She walked back up to the house, her blood beyond boiling. Vegeta was such an ass. She found him standing where she had left him, a shocked look on his face. Bulma glared daggers at him as she walked past him to the house.
"She hates me?" he said in a small voice.
"You act as if no one has ever hated you before." Bulma said, her back to him.
Vegeta snorted. "People hate me all the time. I didn't think she did."
"You'd have to wonder why she didn't hate you earlier when you almost hit her." Bulma retorted.
"What did she want?"
Bulma turned around and smiled at him sweetly. "Oh, she just dropped by to tell you that a large ship has landed on the planet and has killed almost an entire village already. Nothing really important." She turned back to the house like it wasn't anything he should be worried of.
He appeared before her, blocking her way into the house. "Where is the ship?" he demanded.
Bulma looked up into his eyes and saw real panic in his eyes. "Over there." she stuttered, pointing in the direction Mae had indicated.
Vegeta was off, leaving a blue energy trail after him.
Bulma sat in the shadows of candlelight, unsure of whether she should be waiting for Vegeta or not. He hadn't returned since he'd left earlier that day. She sat in the shadows, the covers drawn up to her chin. The panic she'd seen in his eyes was still fresh in her mind.
A breeze suddenly blew through the room, shutting out the candlelight. And then she felt him climb in next to her.
"Have you come back to my bed, Woman?" he said in a mocking tone.
She turned around to say something rather biting to his face, but found his face a few centimeters away from her. She felt her breath suddenly run away from her as he stared into her eyes. "Vegeta," she breathed.
He claimed her lips then, wrapping his arms and tail around her. She sat there for a few moments, not believing what was happening. He pulled away from her a bit, looking into her eyes again. She kissed him then, lightly on his lips, tasting him. His kissed her back fiercely, pressing her body onto the bed, his on top of hers. His hands roamed all over her body, pulling at her clothes. Before she knew it both of their clothes were discarded on the floor and nothing lay between them.
He claimed her that night as his mate . . . and maybe as something else too.