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.

"WOMAN!"

"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.

* * * * *