Ahem. Ok. No excuses for my being late. Except for homework, projects, basketball season, finals, parents, problems, and life. I’m so sorry I broke the circle of life. Looks like Simba ain’t runnin’ no more! I don’t know how I can make it up to you guys. How ‘bout I skip the disclaimer and head straight for the story?


Chapter 8


On Sunday morning, Bulma decided to drive down to the station and see if Kami had come up with anything. She was extremely serious about her job and wanted to make sure everything was in order.

As she drove down the semi-busy JFK street, she let her thoughts drift back to the night before. Bulma didn’t want to admit how good it felt having Vegeta that close to her. Her face grew hot as she remembered his hardness rubbing against her. She could still feel his breath tickle her neck and hear his deep voice whispering seductively into her hair.

‘Damn,’ she thought. Vegeta was disturbing her so much, that she hadn’t even gotten close to interrogating him.

‘I’m supposed to be taking my job seriously,’ she scolded herself. And so far, all she had come up with was a headache from last night’s actions.

Bulma was so deep in thought, that she almost didn’t notice the cop car behind her. She muttered a curse as the police car lights began to spin.

‘Shit,’ she thought. ‘How many cop run-ins can a person have in a week?’

She pulled onto the curb and waited for the officer to come to her vehicle. Bulma was only half surprised when a voice came from a megaphone.

"Get out of your vehicle with your hands up! Slowly!" Bulma irately shook her head but obliged, stepping out of her car, back facing the police.

"Now, take two steps to your left! Slowly!"

Bulma rolled her eyes, ignoring the nosy onlookers, and did as told.

"Take two steps backwards!" the voice blasted. "Slowly!"

Bulma turned around angrily. "Look, is it really that serious? Why don’t you guys just tell me what I did, and we can get this over with."

The man shook his head.

Bulma sighed and took two steps backwards.

"Cuff her men!" the old man shouted through the megaphone.

Bulma’s hands were roughly grabbed by two men. "Come on guys," Bulma said, annoyed. "Is this really necessary?"

The men ignored her and continued to cuff her. Once they were done, the men led her to the cop car.

"Pick up your feet lady," the green one said to her. When they got to the car, they shoved Bulma into the backseat.

"Hey! Watch it!" she exclaimed, irritated. The green officer went to the front with the megaphone man and the other officer, with a very dark complexion, sat in the back with Bulma.

"What about my car!?" Bulma worried. The megaphone cop (who was the elder of the three) answered, "We’ll get someone to pick it up. Now shut it."

Bulma assumed the cops were taking her to their quarters. The car ride was silent as Bulma scrutinized the men.

‘What the hell is up now?’ she wondered.

Minutes passed until they got to the station. "Get out," the dark man said to her. She wiggled her fingers, indicating that she was still cuffed. "A little help please?"

The three men opened the door for her.

"Ah, fresh air," Bulma said, taking a deep breath.

"Why are you so difficult, Bulma?" the man with the megaphone asked.

"No, the question is, why are these damn cuffs so tight? Roshi, you think you can take ‘em off now?" Roshi dug his pockets for the keys and threw them to the dark man.

"Popo, take care of her please."

Popo did as told. Bulma asked, as her binds were being removed, "Why so rough guys?"

The green man smiled teasingly. "What Bulma? Can’t take it?" She rubbed her wrists and mockingly smiled back at him.

"Yeah, Dende, you’re just a pocket full of laughs. If you weren’t Kami’s kid, I’d have kicked your ass a long time ago."

Dende’s smile only got wider. Popo explained as they walked towards the building. "We had to make it as real as possible. You know people were watching. We couldn’t just treat you like the Queen."

"Yeah, well maybe next time you guys decide to arrest me, how ‘bout you consider my fragile wrists?"

As they walked into the building, Bulma asked Roshi, "So what’s up? Is Goku here?"

Popo nodded his head. "Yeah, he got in about an hour ago," he said in his deep, slow voice. Bulma nodded as she opened the door to Kami’s office.

Kami, being the chief, had a huge office equipped with a small kitchen and living room. Bulma hopped onto the counter by Goku.

"What’s up partner?" She asked, giving him daps.

"I guess we’ll just have to see."

A few moments later, Kami came out of his room and stood before them. To the rest of the force, Kami was a figure of power, someone to look up to. He was wise in experience and rightfully respected. His face was wrinkled in age, but his youthfulness said otherwise.

A few years earlier, Kami’s wife had been shot during a drive-by shooting while bringing in groceries. Since then, Kami had grieved, throwing himself into his work, even encouraging his young son to join the force. In fact, it wouldn’t have been a surprise if Dende ended up taking his father’s place as chief.

"So, Kami, what’s the deal?" Goku asked.

Kami sat down at his desk. "More trouble," he said, wearily.

"Like what?" Bulma inquired.

"Well, as you two know, there’s been four hijackings in the last two months, leaving six dead. And we still have nothing."

He shifted through some paperwork on his desk. " The DVD players and digital camera's alone are worth a million-two. Which brings the grand total to six million plus."

"What could they possibly want with $6 million worth of DVD’s?" Goku asked.

Roshi shook his head. "To sell them, of course. The fencing bastards."

"Okay," Bulma said. "But what significance does that have to us right now, chief?"

"We’re in the political crosshairs now, Bulma. You guys want those detective badges, right? If you come through for us, we can help you with that."

Bulma wanted that badge. And she knew Goku did too. All it would take is for them to follow through on this case.

"What about Hercule?" Dende asked.

"He gave us the same M.O. Three Honda Civics, precision driving. Lab says the skid marks came back the same. Mashamoto ZX tires. So we know that it's somebody in the street racing world. We don't make this case soon, the truckers will take matters into their own hands. I tell them we're close. You gonna make me a liar?"

Sergeant Popo spoke up. "Is Hercule cooperating?"

Goku chuckled. "Yeah, like a man who doesn’t want to get 3 to 5 for stolen property."

"How’s he getting along with Vegeta?" Kami asked.

Bulma almost laughed. "He’s scared to death of him, from how Hercule talks about him. Never seen them interact, though. Hercule doesn’t think Vegeta would be into jackin’ cars and such. He’s too controlled for that."

Sergeant Roshi snorted. "Not that I want to contradict Hercule’s fine judge of character, but Vegeta did hard time for nearly beating a guy to death."

Bulma hopped off the counter. "Alright," Bulma said, blatantly ignoring Roshi’s comment. "We’ll see what we can do chief."

As they were about to leave the room, Dende called, Bulma’s name.

"What, kid?"

"I just wanted to know… what’s with the new look?"

Bulma looked down at her attire: a more short than necessary skirt and a sheer white button up top with a black tank under it.

"Just part of the job. Don’t get too used to it."

"Yeah, we both know how uncomfortable you must feel."

She laughed and shook her head, walking out of the room. It was time for her to question a certain drag racer.


Vegeta was tempted to throw a punch at the wall but decided against it. His injured arm would just start throbbing again. As of late, the smallest things had been irritating him.

"How the hell is it that we have no supply of AIC injection?" he muttered to himself. Now he was going to have to go down the street to Hercule’s and ask him for some. But the problem with that was that he’d have to act like he liked the asshole.

He left the dark basement and walked upstairs to the garage. He had a Mitsubishi Eclipse on the dyno and was anxious to measure the car’s engine power.

As he was working on it, he heard the garage door open. ‘Shit,’ he thought ‘Forgot to close the damn door.’ It was Sunday for Chrissakes! Couldn’t he just have some alone time!?

He turned back to his work when he saw it was only the blue haired chick.

"Oh. I didn’t expect to see you here," she said, standing still.

"Yeah, well I do own the damn place."

"Yeah, but it’s Sunday. Shouldn’t you be home watching a football game or something?"

"Do you need help with anything?" he asked, exasperated.

She rolled her eyes, and walked towards him, hopping onto one of the cars. She crossed her legs and played with her nails, putting on an air of nonchalance.

Vegeta’s eyes were averted from to the Eclipse to her long, slender limbs. Had she been walking around town in that short ass skirt all day? With other men watching her? Not that he cared anyway. It was just indecent.

"Why does Zarbon hate you so much?" Bulma asked.

Vegeta smirked, still working on the car. "A deal gone sour. Plus, I slept with is sister." He almost laughed when the room became silent. He could almost imagine the look on her face.

After a few minutes, she spoke up. "You said I owed you, right?"

He chuckled. "Yeah."

"Well… what?"

Vegeta’s smirk grew wider. "I want you to cop me a car that runs nines."

Bulma almost choked in disbelief. "Nines? As in a quarter mile in less than 10 seconds? You gotta be kidding me!"

Vegeta shrugged. "Well…if you don’t think you can handle it…"

The room became silent once again as Bulma seethed. ‘What the hell does he mean, I can’t handle it? Was that supposed to make me mad? ‘Cause I am so not mad!’

Her eyes suddenly filled with an evil glint. ‘I owe him? Yeah, I’ll owe him alright.’

She jumped off the car and stalked towards him.


Vegeta spun around when he felt fingers on his shoulders.

"What the…" he started before Bulma placed a finger on his lips.

"Shut up," she said, shoving him forcefully into the backseat of the car, "and sit."

"Look woman, I don’t have time for your little games. In fact--" but he was silenced when Bulma slowly crept on top of him, straddling his lap.

"In fact…what?" she asked coyly.

Vegeta couldn’t remember what he wanted to say, and only sputtered when she brought her lips to his jaw, slowly and tantalizingly kissing her way down his jaw line. He jolted when he felt her warm tongue escape the heat of her mouth and graze the side of his neck.

‘What the hell is she doing,’ Vegeta asked himself as her wet tongue flicked back and forth against his collarbone.

‘Oh, she wants to play, does she?’ He brought his hands to the back of her legs, sliding them upwards ever so slowly.

Bulma’s actions faltered when she felt his hands slide under her skirt and grab her ass. She grabbed his hands, placing them on her waist.

"Ah, ah, ah, Vegeta. This time, I’m in control."

He chuckled. "Whatever you say, woman. Just what are you trying to prove?"

"You’ll see."

She brought her lips back to his neck, this time gently sucking, while simultaneously bringing her hands under his shirt.

She caressed his tight torso, surprised by the rippling muscles she found there. She felt them contract as she took a light bite of his shoulder. She smiled at him seductively.

"I take it you like that?"

He growled at her arrogance. Bulma navigated her hands up his body, relishing his intake of breath when she flicked a finger across his nipple. She chuckled lightly, and tugged on his shirt.

"I want it off," she demanded.

Vegeta smirked, helping her yank off his shirt. She threw it out of the car and slammed the door shut.

"Now," she said, "for the real deal."

Her hands traveled down his abdomen and to his jeans. She licked her lips when she felt his hardness.

"Look what I’ve done."

"Don’t flatter yourself too much, woman."

"Did that a long time ago," she said, unbuckling his belt.

Vegeta’s hands came down on top of hers, stopping her actions. Bulma’s face filled with confusion.

She gasped when he took her index finger into his mouth. Her face changed from confusion to awe when he licked her finger sensuously in slow circles, keeping his eyes on her.

Bulma almost moaned, thinking of what his tongue could do to other parts of her body. She then got a hold of herself.

‘This is your seduction moment, Bulma!’ she told herself. She eased her hand out of his grasp.

"Nice try, Vegeta."

"You know you liked it, woman," he said, with a devilish smirk.

"Yeah, as much as I’d like a heart attack."

"Don’t kid yourself. You know you can’t resist me woman. I’m just too charming for my own good."

"The name’s Bulma. Get it right!"

"If you weren’t such a bitch, maybe I would!"

"If you weren’t such an asshole, then maybe I wouldn’t be such a bitch!"

"Nothing could prevent you from being a bitch!"

The air around them sparked with animosity.

And passion.

Their lips sought the others with unresolved sexual tension. Bulma moaned into his mouth when his hands flitted over the inside of her thigh.

Vegeta’s mouth plundered hers savagely, his tongue entering her mouth, brandishing her, his. For a while, anyway.

Their tongues battled together in a war neither could win. There was nothing gentle about their kiss. It was pure sex, passion, and lust. It was carnal.

Bulma absently noticed his hands unbuttoning her shirt. She ripped her lips from his, gasping for breath. She shrugged off her shirt and tank, leaving herself in only a bra and skirt.

Their mouths fused together once more. Vegeta hitched her skirt up higher, giving her better access to his crotch. She took it, grinding her lower body slowly against his.

She broke the kiss, bringing her lips close to his ear.

"Say my name," she whispered.

When he didn’t say anything, she began to move faster on him.

"Say it," she demanded, breathily.

He groaned when her pace picked up speed. Damn, he still had his pants on and he was ready to come!

"Say. My. Name."

His mind lost all ability to think, just do, as she braced herself, hands on his shoulders. She was panting, making little noises as she moved on top of him.

"Say it."

His eyes closed shut as he gave in to lust. All he wanted to do was be inside her, Goddammit!

"Bulma!" he cried out, releasing into his jeans.

Bulma’s actions came to a sudden halt. She picked up her shirt and put it on, not worrying about buttoning it.

She opened the car door and stepped out.

"Now, we’re even for that little stunt you played on me last night," she said, breathing heavily.

"You’ll get your ten-second car. You can hold me to that." She turned and stalked towards the door.

Vegeta banged his head back against the leather seat. ‘Fuck,’ he thought hazily. ‘Now I gotta go home and change my fucking pants!’



All right ya’ll. I’m sorry again for bein’ late. Damn, and I have the best reviewers too. Sorry to let you guys down. I’ll try to get the next one out real soon, since we’re on break and all. I hope you guys liked this chapter. I felt like it wasn’t bad, but kinda cheesy. Like I’m rushing things. Someone tell me if I am. And don’t forget to review. I’ll try to keep that circle of life in a circle, so it’s still going. Thanx ya’ll!

Ps-I didn’t proofread, so there are probably typos galore! I hope you had fun with those!

~Scrambled Thoughts~

Table of Contents
Chapter 7
Chapter 9